


It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

by Teatrolley



Series: be my rest, be my fantasy [1]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, But Not Much, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Roommates, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, cant believe i finally get to use this tag for them, now with a little bit of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-09 06:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 48,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12882426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teatrolley/pseuds/Teatrolley
Summary: So, here’s the thing:Isak moves out of his parent’s house when he’s sixteen and it’s fine, really, most of the time it’s fine. It’s just Decembers. Goddamn Decembers. They’re not exactly his favourite time of the year.This time, though: this time he think there’s someone who has it worse than he does.On the first of December that year, Even moves in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13242576) by [sunny_witch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunny_witch/pseuds/sunny_witch)



> i guess i'm an au writer now
> 
> so, okay. this is a christmas thing, as you can obviously see from the title and, yeah, you saw correctly, there will be twenty-four chapters in this. but wait. does that mean–? yes, it does indeed mean that there'll be a chapter each day up until christmas. would you freaking look at that. don't expect them to be longer than what you see here, but expect them to be there. and settle in for the ride! i think it's going to be fun

So, here’s the thing:

Isak moves out of his parent’s house when he’s sixteen and it’s fine, really, most of the time it’s fine. It’s just Decembers. Goddamn Decembers. They’re not exactly his favourite time of the year.

This time, though: this time he think there’s someone who has it worse than he does.

On the first of December that year, Even moves in.

**Friday, December 1st**

Isak hates that extra room in their flat, honestly, he does.

It was nice when they moved to it and it was him, Eskild and the girls, and it was nice when it was first him, Eskild, Jonas and Linn, after Noora moved out, too. But then Linn left. And now? Now, God help them all, and God help all of the strangers who move in and out of the fourth room, periodically, on a little under a half-year basis.

Maybe it says something about what he’s gotten used to, now, but Isak hates it. Hates that, suddenly, being in the kitchen requires him to make small talk, of all things, with someone who’ll probably be gone and out of the flat in less than a quarter of a year. He hates it. So:

“Who is it this time, again?” he asks, for the billionth time, probably, that afternoon, while they’re all sitting in the kitchen table waiting for the new resident to arrive. Well–

“Even,” Jonas says, also for the billionth time. “Friend of Mikael’s. We’ve been over this, you know, what more do you want? His resume?”

“I wanna know what he’s like,” Isak says.

“Well, I don’t know what he’s like, I just interviewed him.” Jonas looks at Eskild. “Why, by the way, did I interview him, when it’s your name that’s on the lease?”

“Because,” Eskild says. “I’m busy slaving away all week to feed my many children.”

“Ha ha.”

“But you know Mikael,” Isak says, to Jonas, electing to ignore everything Eskild has to say. “Doesn’t he have anything to say?”

“I vaguely know Mikael,” Jonas corrects him. “And, anyway, he just says that Even is a nice guy. Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying.”

“It’ll be fine.” Jonas looks at him. "Probably, actuallly, nothing will change."

Ten minutes later the doorbell rings. Jonas is the one who goes to get it.

“Hey,” he says, in the hallway and then, a moment or so later after Even must have ascended the stairs: “Hi.” Isak and Eskild look at each other as they listen in. “Come on in. And welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you,” a voice that must belong to Even says. “Thanks. Are we alone?”

“No, actually,” Jonas says, and Eskild raises his brows at Isak. This is them. “We’re in the kitchen, if you want to join for a bit?”

“Please,” Eskild says, loudly enough that it startles Isak a little, before he gets off his chair and goes to the doorway. “Come say hi.”

“Hey,” Even says, coming closer, and Isak turns around in his chair to watch him as he appears in the doorway to shake Eskild’s hand, with Jonas close behind him. He’s– Well, he’s _pretty_. “You must be...” Even narrows his eyes a little. “Eskild?”

“Yep,” Eskild says. “The one and only.” He shakes Even’s hand back, before he turns to Isak. “And this–“ He waves Isak closer, so Isak gets off his chair and comes over to join him, startled a little when, suddenly, Even meets his eye and smiles. “Is baby Jesus.”

It takes a moment for Isak to register what he’s said. Then:

“Is not,” he says.

“Is so.”

“Isak.” Isak reaches out his hand for the shake, as Even’s lips press together like he’s trying not to smile. “My name is Isak.”

“Isak,” Even repeats, looking amused as he shakes Isak’s hand. His is cold to the touch, probably from the same weather outside that’s made his cheeks look pink and his hair look dishevelled. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Isak says.

“Anyway,” Jonas says. “Ignore them, they’re weird.”

“Excuse me.”

“Do you have any boxes you need help with?”

“Uh,” Even says, turning to look at Jonas but taking a moment to answer. Then: “Uh, yeah, a few. That’d be nice, actually.”

 _He’s_ nice. And when he, a moment later, lets Jonas show him to his room, Isak steps into the hallway to look after them for reasons he wouldn’t know how to explain but feels, anyway. When he turns back to Eskild, he’s smiling, just a little bit. Eskild raises his brows at him.

“What?” Isak says.

“No, nothing,” Eskild says, and Isak rolls his eyes at the smirk on his face. Of course that only makes it bigger. “Nothing at all, baby Jesus. Nothing at all.”

*

Isak is still in the kitchen a little later, trying to do some of his readings for uni, when Even walks back in.

“Oh,” he says, when he sees Isak sitting there, and Isak steals a glance over him, to the bottled beers he’s holding in his hands, the hoodie he’s now wearing, the thick socks that look home-knit, the jeans. He’s still pretty. “Hi. Isak, right?”

“Yeah,” Isak says.

“No, wait,” Even says, then, smiling already like they’re in on the joke together. “Baby Jesus?”

“Not if you want to live.”

Even snorts.

“Noted,” he says. And then, looking beers in his hands and back to Isak again. “You want a beer?”

"Sure," Isak says.

Even nods and, then, frees two beers for them before he puts the rest in the fridge and comes over to sit across from Isak at the kitchen table. When he pops the bottle tops off he does it with a lighter from the pocket of his jeans, and Isak lets himself look a little bit too long at that.

“Cheers,” Even says, holding up one of the beers as he hands the other one to Isak, who takes it.

“Cheers,” Isak says. “And welcome.”

“Thank you.”

They clink their bottles together.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Even asks, after they’ve both had a sip to drink. Isak raises his brows at him in question, frowning a little, before he nods. “I’m trying to buy you with this.”

Isak smiles.

“Buy me?”

“Mm,” Even says. “I was hoping I could get one of you to show me the ropes of everything these next few days. You know, laundry machine, plate cupboards, cleaning schedule, all of that.”

“And I was just conveniently present?” Isak asks, and Even smiles, too. Shrugs.

“Well. You also seem like a decent enough guy, you know.”

Isak snorts. “Thanks for the confidence,” he says.

“Mm.” Even smiles at him, before he raises his brows in question. “So?”

“So,” Isak says. And Isak is not like this. He’s not quick to warm up to people, and he’s certainly not quick to offer up his help, but there’s something about Even that intrigues him enough that he kind of wants to talk to him some more. So: “We’ll start with the dishwasher.”

Even laughs.

“Alright,” he says. “Deal.”

Isak nods at him. “Yeah,” he says. “Deal.”

For the second time, they bottles clink. Then:

“By the way,” Even says. “Is there a reason why you don’t have any Christmas decorations up?”

And oh. Well. Suppose everything good really does come to an end.

“Oh, no,” Isak says, and Even looks at him. “You just went from, like, a ten to a six.”

“Wait,” Even says, smiling and holding up a hand as if to stop Isak from continuing. “Hold on, let’s return to the Christmas thing in a second. I was a ten?”

“Oh–” Isak rolls his eyes, but he’s trying not to blush, too. Even keeps smiling. “Shut up.” Even chuckles. “You know what I mean.”

“That I’m a ten?”

“No–” Isak sighs at him. “Let’s return to the Christmas thing.”

Even laughs.

“Okay,” he says. “So the Christmas thing. You’re one of those people who don’t like it?”

“One of those people?”

“Don’t look at me like I’m treading on fragile ground. I gave you my beer,” Even says, and Isak smiles again, despite himself. “Why don’t you like Christmas? Is it a capitalism thing?”

“No, uh,” Isak says. “More like parental neglect.”

“Ah,” Even says. “Right. That’d do it, I guess.”

“Hm.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Isak says and, to his surprise, Even raises his brows again.

“You know that’s not necessarily what sorry means?” he says. Isak rolls his eyes, but with a smile. “Anyway. I thought I was going to spend my Christmas in Berlin with my girlfriend. Well. Ex-girlfriend, now, so…” Even goes on and, right, Isak remembers being told something about that.

“So it sucks for both of us,” he finishes for him.

“Yeah,” Even says, and then: “But! I won’t be deterred though. I’m nothing if not stubborn.”

“Stubborn?”

“I’ll make you a bet.”

“Ah. So stubborn means foolish, here,” Isak says, and delights in it when Even stops in his tracks to send him a look.

“No,” he says. “I’ll bet you that we can turn this thing around, the two of us. Or, better yet, that I can turn it around for us. Either way, I’m telling you now that, by the end of these next three weeks, you’ll like Christmas again.”

“You know you’re not actually a Christmas miracle, right?” Isak says, but Even just grins, enthusiasm all over his face.

“You know what, Isak?” he says. “I think that, by the time Christmas Eve rolls around, you’ll have found that that’s exactly what I am.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again! on this, the anniversary of the hotel scene for or canon boys, these two guys get to know each other a little more. hope you enjoy your reading!

**Saturday, December 2nd**

_The originals (+ Jonas)_

**Noora Amalie Sætre**  
wait  
wasn’t the new guy going to move in yesterday?

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
morning  
and indeed  
what are you implying sweet one?

**Noora Amalie Sætre**  
don’t call me that  
i think this is the first time none of you have complained

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
i know!

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
he’s pretty this time, noora  
we don’t complain when they’re pretty

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
yes, you do

**Isak Valtersen**  
yes, we do

**Noora Amalie Sætre**  
you know what?  
i don’t even want to know  
nevermind  
@jonas eva says hi

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
say hi back!  
I was planning to come over later, is that chill with you?

**Noora Amalie Sætre**  
i’m hanging with sana today so sure  
i’ll be home around six  
just a warning to save all of our eyes

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
got it

**Isak Valtersen**  
say hi to sana from me!

**Noora Amalie Sætre**  
okay  
anyone else need me to be a messenger-pigeon or are we done?

**Linn Larsen Hansen**  
can you get me the number of that vegan pizza place you talked about in june?

**Noora Amalie Sætre**  
:/

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
oh i love you both

  
*

_Isak defence squad_

**Mahdi Disi**  
great party last night!!

**Isak Valtersen**  
especially for you

**Mahdi Disi**  
you know it

**Magnus Fossbakken**  
great  
can you come over and nurse me back to health then?

**Mahdi Disi**  
could you just drink a little less maybe?

**Magnus Fossbakken**  
no  
anyway is the new guy still there or did isak drunkenly kill him last night?

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
oh i knew i forgot to check something

**Isak Valtersen**  
ha ha  
i don’t hate them that much

**Magnus Fossbakken**  
or you just don’t hate this one that much  
is it wedding bells that i’m hearing?

**Isak Valtersen**  
fuck off

**Magnus Fossbakken**  
defensive

**Isak Valtersen**  
and goodbye

*

At around noon that Saturday Isak finally manages to get out of bed.

In the kitchen he makes himself some toast and is ecstatic to find the coke he, drunkenly, bought himself the night before. He drinks that, too, and while he does he opens the dry-food cupboard to look over what he has when has his eyes catch on Even’s shelf, stocked with actual rice and pasta.

Of course, then, when someone enters the kitchen a few minutes or so later, it’s him.

“Oh, hi,” he says, going to the kettle and filling it up with water while Isak grunts out his greeting back. He’s wearing sweatpants today, and the same hoodie from yesterday, and Isak can’t figure out from the look of him if he went out, too, or stayed in.

“Wait, hey,” Even says then. “I bought you something this morning.”

“You what?” Isak asks, and Even’s grins.

“Okay, hold on,” he says, and leaves the room as the kettle keeps boiling behind him, coming back again a moment later. This time, with something in his hands. When he sees it, Isak rolls his eyes, and when Even laughs it sounds like a giggle.

“You’re so not funny,” Isak says.

“I take my bets seriously,” Even says, and hands the chocolate Advent calendar over to Isak who takes it with a shake of his head. “I’m not going to lose just because I didn’t go all out.”

“Why do you even care?”

“Isak,” Even says. “I’m only just about two months out of a four-years long relationship. I’m sure you can see why I’d need something to occupy me.”

Well.

Of course Isak is going to bite. Of course he is.

“So, I can eat two?” he says, and Even smiles when he nods, so _fine_ , then. Fine. After he’s popped both of the chocolates out of the calendar and turned them around in his grasp a bit, a little bit sceptical of how good they can actually taste, Isak pops one of them in his mouth.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh, no.” Shaking his head and frowning he hands the other one to Even who, on instinct it seems, reaches out his palm to accept it and then laughs.

“Wait,” he says. “Why are you giving it to me?”

“You gave it to me!” Isak says, taking a big swig of his coke. “Ew, sorry, thanks for the gift and all but that was gross.”

Even sends him a look. Then, looking over the chocolate a little bit, he pops it in his mouth, too, and shrugs. 

“It’s fine,” he says.

“No,” Isak says. “It’s not.”

“Whatever.” Even shrugs. “Worth a try.”

“If you say so.”

“Hm,” Even says. “You know what I think?”

“No?”

“I think that to make up for this horrendous disappointment you should help me unpack.” Isak looks at him. “You did offer to help me just yesterday.”

“And this is the same?” Isak asks, but Even just raises his brows so, in the end, he bites here, too. “Okay,” he says.

“Okay?”

“Whatever,” Isak says. “Show me what you got, then.”

*

They end up on Even’s bedroom floor.

In the hallway they run into Jonas, and Even invites him, too so, when they’re sitting on his floor, looking through the boxes of his stuff, Jonas is there as well. The only thing already unpacked is his bed sheets.

The first thing Even picks out of one of his boxes, then, is a stereo that he connects to his phone. He seems to be scrolling through it to find a song and, then, before he presses anything, glances up to catch Isak’s eye, smiling already.

When he presses play, it’s a Christmas song. _Driving home for Christmas._ _It’s gonna take some time,_ the song says. _But I’ll get there._ Isak rolls his eyes, and Even grins.

“Ha ha,” Isak says, and it makes Jonas frown at him but it, also, makes Even wink. 

Isak, blushing just a little, looks away.

Next, they find Even’s record player and twenty or so of his records. They make Jonas stop unpacking entirely in favour of looking through them and, after a moment, Isak abandons the unpacking to look over his shoulder at the records, too.

It is, honestly, one of the weirdest collections he’s seen. There’s everything from 90s hiphop to modern pop to records so indie not even Jonas seems to know what they are.

“You’re certainly helpful, huh?” Even says when he, eventually, catching them in their inactivity.

“Are these all yours?” Isak asks.

“Yeah. Why?”

“It’s–” He takes one of the records from Jonas’s hands. “Gabrielle?”

“Great example of really solid pop music,” Even says, and Isak catches Jonas’s eyes. For once Jonas, usually so non-judgmental, looks sceptical, too. “What?”

“I can’t believe you have both this and Nas,” Jonas says, and Even sends him a look.

“Okay, you two music-gatekeepers. Are you going to help me or are you just going to complain about my records?”

“Definitely the latter,” Isak says, so Even sends him a look, too. “No, alright, alright. Alright.” Isak pulls one of the boxers closer to him, and starts looking through it again. “Satisfied?”

“Hm.”

Next, they find some posters of Even’s, movies, now, _Star Wars_ and _Romeo + Juliet_. This time Isak thinks the connection makes a little more sense, so he stands at the end of Even’s bed and guides him as he tapes them to the wall behind it and, after they’ve successfully managed to get them even, accepts Even’s high-five about it.

There are a couple of books, then, some of them for uni and some of them fiction, something that looks like a diary, a couple of sketchbooks, and a clear pencil-case of art-supplies. Isak wishes a little that he could look but, instead, places all of them on the eye-height shelf. Maybe one day Even will show him of his own accord.

Then, down the bottom of one of the boxes, is a framed picture. The only one’s Isak seen this far and, when he looks at it, he begins to understand why.

From it Even’s smile shines back at him, but so does the smile of the girl next to him who, judging by the way they’re leaning into each other and the way he has an arm around her, must be that ex-girlfriend of his.

“Oh,” Even says, coming up behind him, and Isak doesn’t know what to do with the picture so he doesn’t do anything. Not until Even reaches out for it, and he hands it over.

Holding it in his hands Even smiles down at it, and this smile is definitely not like his amused or happy one. It’s fond, and so much more emotional that Isak feels a little bit wrong looking. But then, just as he’s decided to look away, Even’s face goes sober, as it seems he catches himself.

“This looks nice,” he says. “But we had a fight later that day.”

He exhales, still looking at the picture, but then glances up from it.

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging in Isak’s direction. “I don’t know.”

He puts the picture back in the box.

“Guess this one’s for the things I don’t use anymore.”

Isak catches Jonas’s eye. _Should we do anything_? he asks, but Jonas just shrugs. _I think we should just leave this be_. Isak moves on to a new box.

“Uh–”

“Sorry,” Even says. “That was weird.”

“No, it’s–” Isak looks at him, trying to make his smile reassuring. “It’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Jonas says. “Don’t worry about it, bro. Break-ups are hard.”

“Yeah.”

It is fine, but when Isak goes back to his box there’s still a bit of tension in the air that he doesn’t quite know how to dispel until–

“Maybe this isn’t the best song to listen to for you right now,” he says, just as George Michael sings _I gave you my heart_ , and Even looks happy when he laughs. Jonas chuckles, too, shaking his head at Isak, who shrugs back. It’s true.

“Guess my Christmas mood backfired on me, huh?” Even says, and changes the song, just as George Michael finishes singing _someone special._

“Hm,” Isak says. “Christmas, zero. Isak, two.”

“Two?” Even asks.

“Christmas calendar.”

When Even flips him off, Isak laughs.

It turns out to be a pretty good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more feedback? she begs. thanks for reading along with this!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're back! hope you've had a nice sunday or are in the middle of a nice one, depending on where in the world you are. enjoy your reading!

**Sunday, December 3rd**

“Next on the list,” Even tells him, the next day, finding him in the kitchen while he’s eating his breakfast again. “Advent Sunday candles, mulled wine, actual food. Christmas music volume two, now on a playlist that doesn’t include any songs about heartbreak.”

As he says it he unpacks a list of groceries from his bags, and Isak wonders how on earth he can afford all of that just as much as he wonders how Even’s outlook on the world manages to be this positive, despite everything. Eventually, Even turns to look at him, giant grin on his face, and Isak wonders, too, how anyone’s ever been able to resist him.

“You’re really not giving up, huh?” he asks, and Even snorts.

“Nope,” he says. “I’m really not.”

*

Before Even gets started on the mulled wine he takes Isak up on the offer to show him the laundry machine in the basement. Of course it’s pretty self-explanatory but Isak shows Even how to work the payment-system and then sits on one of the chairs in there as Even sorts his stuff into two machines.

“I didn’t know I would get the room until two days before,” he explains, and Isak just shrugs, so Even turns back to the machine. “You’re pretty good at all of this,” he goes on, halfway distracted. “How old are you?”

“I’m twenty,” Isak says.

“So you’ve just always done chores, or?”

“No, not really,” Isak says and, despite himself, even though it’d be so easy to lie and ward off any other questions like he usually does. “I mean,” he goes on, and he’s never voluntarily elaborated either. “I moved out when I was sixteen.”

“Oh?” Even says, sounding surprised, and then: “Oh. The parental–”

“Yeah,” Isak says.

“Hm.” Even glances back at him. “Must have been hard.”

Isak shrugs. “Yeah,” he says. “Well.”

“Okay,” Even says, huffing out a breath. “I’ll take the hint. New subject,” he goes on, and Isak can’t help his own snort. “So, uh… how did you get the room?”

“We don’t have to small-talk, you know,” Isak says, and is surprised when Even sends him a look and places a hand to his chest like he’s playing offended.

“I’m not small-talking,” he says. “I want to know.”

“Okay,” Isak says. “Jeez.” Even grins. “I got the room from meeting Eskild at bar.”

Even’s eyes widen a bit. “You were sixteen?” he asks.

“Yeah?” Isak says, confused, but then: “Oh! No, no, no. Not like that, God, no, he’s like my brother, that’d be–” He shakes his head, trying to shake _that_ image out of it, and Even laughs. “Absolutely not.”

“Alright,” Even says. “Phew.”

“Yeah,” Isak says. “No, he just sobered me up and offered me a place to stay and stuff because I was babbling about how I didn’t want to go home. It was– yeah. Lot of family drama.”

“Alright,” Even says. “If I’ve learnt anything today it’s how to make you clamp shut, huh?”

“Shut up,” Isak says, but he’s smiling. “I just don’t like talking about it.”

“Clearly.”

“Shut up.”

They smile at each other. And then, a moment later, Even changes the subject on his own accord, and Isak appreciates it so much, and appreciates even more how nice Even is, so:

When he, in the afternoon, asks if Isak wants to help with the mulled wine, Isak, despite of himself, agrees.

*

In the early afternoon Jonas comes home from Eva’s and Noora’s place, and in the late afternoon Eskild comes home from work. Unlike their usual routine they end up all sitting in the kitchen as Even cooks them a dinner of duck, of all things, passing the mulled wine around between them.

When Jonas goes to the bathroom Eskild gets off his chair and finds some more wine in his own cupboard, joining Even at the stove to pour it into the pot of the mulled wine, winking conspiratorially at them.

“Jonas is the responsible one, so,” he says, when Even sends him a questioning look, and Even laughs.

“And you?” he asks.

“I’m the cool brotherly figure who gurus everyone else.”

“You decided that all on your own,” Isak says.

“In a few years, Issy boy, you’ll agree.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“So, wait,” Even says. “What’s Isak, then?”

“The one he thinks he’s the guru of,” Isak says, and Even smiles.

“The one we would all kill for,” Eskild adds, and Isak sends him a look.

“Shut up.”

“No, I can see that,” Even says, so Isak sends him a look, too. When he looks back to Eskild, Eskild winks at him and Isak rolls his eyes, not because he doesn’t realise what Eskild is implying, but because he realises exactly that.

As if, though; as if he’s going to throw himself down a slope as dangerously uncertain as this.

*

It’s rare that they all stay in the living room at the same time but there must be something about Even’s presence that compels them to be different, this Sunday, because that night they all gather on the couches with their duvets, all of them a little tipsy off the mulled wine, still.

At this point it’s been dark for a while. The only things lighting the room are the Advent Sunday candle and the fairy lights Eskild put up around their shared bookcase when they moved in and the TV, showing them _Nightmare before Christmas_ per Jonas’s and Even’s shared request. They’re drinking tea, now, and Isak feels that kind of effortlessly content that’s rare to find but always seems to come at night when it does.

Even and Jonas are discussing the movie in quiet tones on the couch that they’ve taken residence on, and it’s the kind of nerdy conversation Isak would normally tease Jonas about, but tonight he doesn’t really care. It’s kind of nice to listen to their voices as he falls so far into relaxation that he’s almost asleep.

_So alright_ , he thinks. _Isak, two. Christmas, one._

And then there’s nothing almost about it.

When he wakes back up he’s still on the couch, buried deep beneath his duvet, and Eskild is making the couch dip when he stands up from it.

“Hm,” Isak groans.

“Oh,” Eskild says, quietly. “Morning, sleepy-head.”

“What time is it?”

“Eleven pm.”

“Oh, God,” Isak says, blinking his eyes open, running a hand over his face. They’re the only two people left in the room. On the table, the candle’s been blown out, but it’s still smoking.

“Sleep well?”

“Hm. I feel like I have no idea where I am.”

Eskild snorts, softly. “You need help getting to your room?”

“No, it’s fine.” Isak sighs, then yawns. “God.” He sits up, pulling his duvet with him, and Eskild smiles. “Okay.” He stands up off the couch. “Alright.”

“You okay there?”

“Shh,” Isak says, and Eskild keeps smiling.

When he gets to the bathroom, duvet wrapped around his shoulders and eyes still trying to adjust to being open, Even is in there, brushing his teeth with the door open.

“Oh,” he says, and invites Isak in with a nod of his head. “You’re up.” Nodding, Isak yawns again, and Even smiles. “Sleep well?”

“Hm,” Isak says, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes, and reaches out for his toothbrush, too. When he’s found it, he sits down on the edge of the bathtub to brush his teeth there. “I feel more tired now than I did before.”

Even snorts, softly. “Yeah,” he says. “Naps will do that for you.”

“Hm,” Isak agrees.

As they keep brushing their teeth they fall into a comfortable silence. Isak just can’t wait, really, to get into bed and back to sleep, and doesn’t have much energy for talking. Even doesn’t seem to mind.

After he spits his toothpaste into the sink and rinses out his mouth, Even reaches into the cupboard and brings out the bottle of pills that Isak’s noticed sitting in there, now, but hasn’t wanted to ask about.

When Even fills up a glass with water and takes one of the pills, Isak gets up to rinse out his mouth, too. After he’s done, Even reaches over to pour the excess water out of his glass. Isak is used to move around other people in the bathroom, but he’s surprised it’s working so quickly for the two of them.

“I didn’t know you were on meds,” Isak says, and Even looks at him.

“I’m bipolar,” he says.

“No, I know. It was in your… application, thing. I just mean, I didn’t know you took something for it.”

Even shrugs. “Kind of have to,” he says.

“You mind?”

“No. Not too much, at least. It keeps me stable, which I like, you know, so…”

“Yeah,” Isak says, smiling. “That’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Hm,” Even says. Then, as if just remembered something: “Hey, wait. When are you going in tomorrow?”

“First lecture’s at ten. For Jonas, too.”

“You take the tram?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I join?”

“Hm.” Isak nods. “Of course.”

“Cool. So I’ll see you tomorrow at…”

“Nine thirty,” Isak says.

“Nine thirty. Alright.” Even nods, before he puts the pill bottle back in the cabinet. “Night, then.”

“Yeah, goodnight.”

“Alright,” Even says, in the doorway now, and turns to him to send him a warm smile. “Sleep well, Isak.”

He’s gone before Isak can say anything, but Isak watches him leave. Once he’s back in his room he takes his Advent calendar with him to his bed and sits there, tracing the outline of the window for the third with his index finger before he opens it, and eats the chocolate even though he’s just brushed his teeth.

It’s not that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me @ isak after reading this back: oooh honey
> 
> leave me a comment in the comments? also i don't use it to do anything skam related at all but if you wanna chat or anything on tumblr i'm at tenderlock. and always up for a chat


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello monday! i have my least favourite lecture ever from 3 to 5 pm on mondays after an already long day so i'm having a great time. anyway. if you've had a long day hopefully this will make you smile!

**Monday, December 4th**

Monday morning Isak gets in the shower after Jonas as always and, when he goes to the kitchen to grab some breakfast before it’s time to leave, finds Even sitting there, hair already styled, looking like he’s been up for ages.

“You’re always fucking up,” he says, grumpily, and Even looks up from his uni book, surprised. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

“I just get up at seven every day,” Even says, like the fucking idiot anyone who’d willingly subject themselves to that must be.

“Ugh,” Isak says, and leaves the room again to the sound of Even chuckling.

By the time it’s nine thirty both Isak and Jonas are standing by the door, waiting for Even who, somehow, is managing to be the first one up and also the last one ready to leave.

When he comes out though. God, when he comes out it’s the first time Isak’s ever seen him in jeans and a t-shirt and he really could have gone without that, because he looks– 

Really fucking hot.

Great.

It doesn’t really improve Isak’s mood.

“So,” Even says, once they’ve made it onto the tram, standing huddled together around one of the yellow bus-posts. “Did you manage to fall asleep after your nap last night?”

Before Isak can say anything Jonas’s made a cut-it-out gesture in front of his neck.

“What?” Even asks.

“He woke up at nine, so you can’t speak to him until it’s at least ten. Preferably after.”

“Ha ha,” Isak says. “Shut the fuck up.”

“See?”

Isak flips him the finger. “You’re not funny,” he says.

“I’m not trying to be funny, it’s true.”

“Ugh,” Isak says, again. “I hate Mondays. I hate chemistry and I hate having to get up and do something immediately and I hate that it’s cold and I’m tired, now, I just want it to be the goddamn holidays. Today is a horrible day already.”

When Jonas glances at Even, sharing a look with him, Even smiles, and Isak thinks the both of them are annoying, too.

“And,” he adds. “By the time I get out tonight it’ll be dark already and even colder than it is right now.”

“Oh,” Even says. “You get out at five, too?” Isak nods. “You should wait for me then, we can go home together.”

"Oh," he says, and now Jonas is smirking at him as Even keeps smiling in this treacherously sincere way, and, well: "Okay."

"Cool," Even says.

Isak just looks at him. Keeps looking.

“Well, would you look at that,” Jonas says, after a while, watching him with that same goddamn smirk on his face. “Isak stopped in the middle of his ranting.” He turns to Even. “You know what you are?” Even shakes his head. “You’re a fucking miracle.”

*

By the time Isak’s first lecture, _cell and molecular biology_ , is done, he’s feeling a little better.

At the door of the lecture hall he waits for Sana, and together they go to the canteen where they meet up with the rest of the lunch crowd: Magnus, Mahdi, Jonas, Noora, and Vilde. And Isak: Isak hates them all a little bit for the fact that it’s only him and Sana who need to stay here until five.

“So,” Noora says, once they’re all there. “How’s it going with the new guy?”

So they’re doing this.

“Good,” Jonas says. “So much better than any of the other ones. He’s great.” And then, smirking in Isak’s direction: “He got Is so drunk yesterday that he passed out asleep on the couch at seven pm.”

“Alright,” Isak says, as Mahdi and Magnus laugh. “It wasn’t because I was drunk, but thanks.”

“Wait,” Mahdi says. “How’d he get you drunk?”

“He made mulled wine,” Jonas explains. “And cooked us all dinner. It was awesome.”

“We have to meet him soon,” Magnus says.

“Friday, maybe?” Jonas says, and Sana says, “Hold on.”

“What?” Isak asks her.

“What’s his name?”

“Even.”

“Even Bech Næsheim,” Jonas adds.

“No?”

“What?” Isak says, frowning at her.

“He’s one of Elias’s best friends.”

“What?” Isak says. “Your brother?” She nods. “Really?”

“Yeah. Like, since middle school. I knew him when he had braces.”

“No?” Isak says, delighted now. “That’s amazing. Do you have any pictures?”

She just sends him a look.

“So, is he cool?” Magnus asks her. “Or have these two guys just lost their judgment because he wined and dined them?”

“Yeah,” Sana says. “He’s the nicest person I know. He’s very kind.”

“He is,” Jonas says. “He stopped Isak being grumpy this morning, it was fucking incredible.”

“I can’t figure out which one of you has the biggest crush,” Magnus says, and Isak sends him a look.

“You know, Mags,” he says. “You can be gay and not fall for any guy in your vicinity who’s being nice to you.”

“Sure, you can be gay and not do that,” Magnus says. “But…” The _you can’t_ doesn’t need to be said. Mahdi laughs, and Isak flips the both of them off. Noora leans in to whisper something to Vilde, who laughs, too.

“That’s not even true,” Isak says. “And I’m not a dater, anyway. And he’s probably straight, too,” he adds and, after a second, almost on cue, everyone turns to look at Sana. Holding up her hands, she shakes her head.

“That’s not my place to say,” she says.

“Suspicious way to avoid the subject,” Magnus says, and Jonas says, “She’s right, guys. If he has anything to come out with we should let him do it on his own terms.”

He’s right, of course, and when the rest of them move on to a different subject, Isak finds his eyes and nods at him, giving him a little smile. 

Jonas nods back.

*

After their lunch-break he and Sana go to the study hall for the two hours between then and their three pm lecture. Occasionally Sana turns her laptop towards him to show him something in her notes, and one of the times a few texts from Yousef pops up on her screen from her messenger app. Isak averts his eyes to preserve her privacy, but not before he’s seen a red heart in one of them and, dammit, okay, sometimes it does sound a bit nice to be in love.

Not that he’s jealous. It’s just a statement.

When they’re finally let out at five they walk to the station together. Just like he predicted that morning it’s gone dark already, and Isak would hate it and does, a little bit, but today he may or may not look at the Christmas lights adorning the shop-windows with a little smile instead of a frown.

Once they make it to the station Even’s already there, next to another dark-haired guy who says something that makes Even reach out to touch his shoulder as he throws his head back laughing. It’s the sound of it that first alerts Isak to his presence.

“Hey,” Even says, when he sees him, beaming, and then: “Sana! Hi.” He reaches out to hug her and, to Isak’s surprise, she hugs him back. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m with this one,” she says, pointing to Isak. “We know each other from Nissen.”

“Oh,” he says, and then, to Isak: “I’m friends with her brother. Well.” He gestures to the guy standing next to him. “We are. This is Mikael.” Isak reaches out a hand to shake his hand, and Mikael takes it. “And this is Isak, my new roommate who I was telling you about,” Even adds, to Mikael, who nods.

“He’s okay to live with?” he asks.

Catching Even’s eye, Isak just shrugs. “Well,” he says, dragging it out, and winks when Even rolls his eyes at him. They both smile.

“Good answer,” Mikael says, and Even reaches out to slap his chest, offended.

“Okay,” he says. “Never letting you two meet again.” And, to Isak: “Shall we go?”

“Sure.”

Even hugs both Sana and Mikael goodbye, and Sana was right, Isak thinks, he really is just the nicest person. When they file into the tram he places a hand between Isak’s shoulder blades, to steer him, maybe, or to let him know where he is, or, perhaps, just because he’s tactile like that.

“Isn’t it funny,” he says, once they’re sitting on one of the tram seats, sides and thighs pressed together because they’re small. "How close out lives have been without us ever meeting until now?”

“Yeah,” Isak says, and smiles a little at the idea of it. It’s weird, how it’s only been a weekend but he already feels like he’s known Even for the longest time. It’s weird, this instant friendship that he hasn’t really experienced since he met Jonas in first grade, so long ago now that he thought maybe it was something only little kids feel. “Maybe in another universe we meet earlier.”

Even doesn’t say anything to that, but he assesses him, for a while, and then smiles, in a slow-dawning way that looks like it could mean something Isak doesn’t understand.

“Maybe,” he says, still smiling, and Isak shrugs. “Anyway.” Even keeps watching him. “Did you have a good day, after all, or did it turn out as horrible as you thought it would this morning?”

“Oh, shut up,” Isak says, and this time Even snorts. “But it was fine. Chemistry was even okay.”

“Wow,” Even says. “That’s nice.”

“Hm. Still tired, though.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Even says, and then: “Wait, hold on. Do you have headphones with you?”

“Mm-hm.”

As he’s said it, Even pulls his phone out of his pocket together with his own headphones and, to Isak’s surprise, a splitter cable.

“You have one of those?” Isak asks.

“Yeah. Long-term relationship thing.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Even says, grimacing. “But! It sure does come in handy now, doesn’t it?”

“Hm,” Isak says, smiling a little at Even’s attempt to power on. When Even reaches out his palm he places his headphones in it, and Even takes them and plugs them in as Isak waits to hear what he will play.

Of fucking course it’s Christmas music.

At first, Isak rolls his eyes, but then, to the sound of Even’s laugh, settles in and resigns himself to it. If Even is going to think he’s predictable now, Isak is sure as hell going to prove him wrong.

Even grins.

Tonight he’s wearing his big coat again, the one he wore when he arrives on Friday, and it’s soft and warm, and Isak doesn’t mean to do it but after he’s settled in he realises he’s leaned a bit against him.

He stays. 

He’s tired anyway, and it’s been a long day and, as the choir sings _all is calm, all is bright_ , he closes his eyes.

He doesn’t fall asleep, but he almost does, and he doesn’t quite understand how easy Even makes it for him to relax, even though he hardly ever manages, but he’ll take it. Even lets him stay there the whole ride anyway, and wakes him up gently when it’s time for them to get off, and Isak will definitely take it.

Before he goes to bed that night he eats the Advent calendar chocolate again. 

It's pretty good this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always i'd appreciate your thoughts
> 
> also this whole thing is basically written already but i'm indulging myself and writing out even's pov too instead of just thinking of it and. oh boy. you'll see when we get there


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back! and happy tuesday!

**Tuesday, December 5th**

Tuesday morning Isak has to get up early to go to his eight AM, and for this whole semester the stretch of time from Monday morning to Tuesday at ten AM after his lecture’s finished has been the worst one.

Understandably, then, he’s grumpy again.

After he’s showered that morning he goes to his room to get dressed and, when he gets out, someone’s gotten in the shower after him. Not particularly interested in being late, he knocks on the door.

“Dude,” he says, to whoever’s in there. “I need to brush my teeth.”

“Oh, sorry,” Even says, on the other side of the door, because of course. He’s everywhere. “Just come in.”

Isak sighs before he goes in, but in he goes. He has to. It’s steaming in there, and the water’s still running, but Isak ignores all of that to pull his toothbrush out of its holder. Even keeps showering as he brushes his teeth.

“You have an eight AM today?” he asks, after a while.

“Hm.”

“Rough.”

“Hm,” Isak says, not able to say much else around his toothbrush.

“We should all share schedules so we avoid this whole bathroom-sharing thing.”

Before he says anything Isak spits in the sink. Then: 

“Eskild has a list somewhere,” he says, before dipping down to rinse out his mouth.

“I’ll ask him for it,” Even says.

“Hm.”

Even snorts. 

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll stop making you talk.”

“No, it’s– I’m just very tired,” Isak says.

“It is early.”

“Yeah.” It really freaking is. “When are you going in?”

“Oh, I’m not,” Even says. “Don’t have any lectures today.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway,” Isak says.

“Gotta run?”

“Yep.”

“Alright.” Even hasn’t turned the shower off, but it sounds to Isak like he’s pretty much done and is just waiting for Isak to leave so he can get out of it. At least he's stopped moving. “See you later, then. Hope you have a nice day.”

“Yeah,” Isak says. “See you later.”

Really, Isak thinks later, as he’s sitting on the tram and smiling, just a little to himself, into the back of his hand, it’s a bit annoying how kind he is. 

Just a little bit.

*

_Kollektivet_

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
@Eskild i hear you have a list of schedules somewhere that makes us not fight over the bathroom in the morning. can i see it?

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
oh boy  
today is isak’s 8am  
are you still alive?

**Isak Valtersen**  
this is the only day of the week you can’t get away with talking about me before i’m awake  
i’m a perfectly nice roommate i’ll have you know  
if you don’t agree maybe it’s yourself you should be examining

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
0/10 not believable

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
no, guys, it was fine  
today  
but i should probably plan ahead for when the politeness wears off

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
clever thinking

**Isak Valtersen**  
it just did

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
[link to google sheets]  
here it is  
use this information wisely

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
thanks!

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
we’ll add you tonight it’ll be great

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
awesome

**Isak Valtersen**  
eskild’s kink is using spreadsheets to make schedules so be careful what you agree to

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
you guys are very weird

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
they really are

**Isak Valtersen**  
you do know you were most likely included in that you?

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
i doubt it

**Isak Valtersen**  
even?

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
no comment

**Isak Valtersen**  
ha!

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
go back to your lecture, slacker

**Isak Valtersen**  
joke’s on you sana just caught me texting so it’s not like i have a choice  
adios guys  
talk to you later

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
<3

*

Isak expects Even to be there when he gets home, what with being off for the day and all, but he isn’t. Neither is anyone else.

Using the opportunity for what it is, then, he has a quick nap, like he often does on Tuesdays. When he wakes back up Even still isn’t home. Jonas, however, is.

They settle in together at their dining table, doing their readings, like they often do on Tuesdays, too. They keep reading as it turns dark outside, and keep reading until, suddenly, it is.

At around five Eskild comes home and, then, at around six, Eva comes over. Isak joins her and Jonas in the kitchen as they make a joint dinner. Well. As Eva directs the both of them, but him in particular, hopeless with cooking and all, in an effort to make something edible.

“Hey,” she says, halfway through that. “Where’s mulled wine guy?” Isak sends Jonas a look at the nickname. “I was promised Christmassy alcohol.”

“Don’t know,” Jonas says, shrugging, and then, to Isak: “Do you?”

“Nope,” Isak says, and is surprised by how much he’d like to know. Or, maybe, more accurately, by how much he’d like to know when to expect Even home again.

It’s just that he kind of misses him. Which is weird and absurd and probably easily explained by the fact that they’ve gone from not knowing to each other to spending all of their time together so quickly it’s been a little intense, and which probably won’t last forever. Probably.

It’s still a bit disconcerting.

"Anyway," Eva says. "Does that mean that you'll watch Fresh Prince with us tonight?" 

They both frown at her.

"Uh, no," Isak says. "It doesn't. Since you're dating and since I'm no longer jealously invested in cock-blocking you from each other."

They both laugh. Eva shrugs.

"Alright," she says. "Just thought I'd offer."

Isak shrugs, too. Later, while they're doing the dishes, Eva shows Jonas her teeth and asks if she's got lipstick on them and, since she does, he reaches out to wipe it off before he leans in to kiss her, pressing a couple of quick pecks to her lips in a teasing way. She giggles, holding onto his shoulder, and instead of feeling bad about it Isak watches it with a little smile on his face that stays when Jonas turns to glance at him, grinning, like he's happy and wants to share it. It stays because, now, Isak is actually glad to be told.

In the evening, then, he works a bit on an assignment but when he gets too tired for that he thinks back to Even’s room, the posters he helped him put up, and pulls his laptop in closer to his chest as he googles: 

_Romeo + Juliet._

In the end it’s ten in the evening before Even comes home. Isak is still watching the movie, door to his room left ajar, when he hears a key turn in the lock and, a moment later, watches Even come into the hallway, shrugging his jacket off.

“Oh, hey,” Even says, when he sees him, and Isak pauses the movie to look at him.

“Hey,” he says.

“Good day?”

“Yeah.” Isak nods. “You?”

“Yeah,” Even says, lifting his foot to untie his boots, and managing to get one of them off. “Long.”

“What have you been doing?”

“Oh, I went to the study hall.” Even starts on the other boot, untying that one, too. “And then I hung out with Sana’s brother, actually, and the rest of the guys.”

“Nice.”

“Hm.”

“Do you always go to the study hall even when you’re off?”

“Pretty much,” Even says, getting the other boot off and placing them on the floor together before he leans against the doorway as he keeps talking. “Routine’s good for the bipolar and all of that.”

“Ah,” Isak says.

“Yeah.” Even nods. “Anyway, I’m exhausted, and I have a long day tomorrow, so I’m going to go brush my teeth and then I’m going to go straight to bed. Wait, no, can I shower tomorrow or will you walk in on me naked again?”

“Shut up, I knocked,” Isak says, and Even grins. “I think everyone else has a ten am starts tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Even says. “Night, then, Is.”

“Night,” Isak says, smiling at the nickname, and watches Even’s back as he leaves.

When he goes back to the movie he’s smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today is a missing even day
> 
> as always, feel free to leave your thoughts


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! good wednesday? i hope so. enjoy your reading!

**Wednesday, December 6th**

Wednesday, when Isak wakes up, it’s freezing. Frost is covering the bottom of the window of his room, the tip of his nose is cold, and he’s glad he gets to stay in today, because the idea of going outside in this? No, thank you.

Reaching down to the side of his bed to grab them, he pulls his sweatpants, socks and hoodie on before he gets out from under the duvet, and then he brings that, too, wrapped around his shoulders, when he goes into the kitchen.

This time it’s not Even he runs into in there, but Jonas and Eva. Eskild, probably, has already left.

“Morning,” Eva says, from where she’s sitting in Jonas’s lap. “You look cozy.”

“It’s my day off,” he says, and then: “And morning.”

“Ah.”

“There’s coffee in the pot if you want some,” Jonas says. “Even made it.”

Isak does, so he grabs it. It’s grey outside, today, so the room is cast in the yellow hue of the overhead lights. After he’s poured himself the coffee and buttered some toast, he drops down at the kitchen table across from the two of them.

“You know,” Eva says, and she's wearing one of Jonas’s hoodies and looking like she thinks it’s freezing, too. “I met him this morning.”

“Yeah?” Isak says.

“Hm. And if you ever stop wanting him around I’ll just have you know that Noora and I will gladly take him.”

“Are you sure Noora agrees with that?” Isak asks, as Jonas says, “Eva would leave me for him in a heartbeat.” Isak laughs.

“You would?” he asks her.

“Yeah,” she says, and then, to Jonas: “Can I put him on my list?”

Jonas sends her a look. “We do not have a list,” he says, and she chuckles.

“You don’t have a list,” she says. “I have a list.”

“Who’s on it?” Isak asks.

“Winona Ryder.”

“Oh?”

“The way she looks in Heathers.”

“Wait,” Isak says. “The way she looks in Heathers in the end?”

Eva nods, grinning. “Yeah.”

“You’re very weird.”

“Yeah.”

They all laugh. When Isak catches Jonas’s eye, Jonas rolls his own, but he’s smiling, too, and Isak smiles at them.

“Okay,” Jonas says. “I guess if you somehow manage to travel back in time to meet Winona Ryder as she looked in the eighties right after murdering some dude, I wouldn’t mind too much that you slept with her.”

“Cool,” she says.

“Cool.”

Isak shakes his head at them.

*

It continues to be fucking cold that day, so after the rest of them leave Isak keeps his duvet wrapped around his shoulders as he goes to the living room, spending half an hour or so watching the news. Then, at around eleven, he manages to start doing his readings.

He misses Even again.

He also ignores it.

At around six, then, Eskild comes home, shrugging his jacket off in the hallway before he barges into the living room when he catches sight of Isak with an energy Isak doesn’t know where he picks up.

“Hello, my sweet baby Jesus,” he says. “Working hard?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Lovely,” he says, dumping down on the chair next to Isak before fishing his phone out from his pocket. “So, listen, I was talking to this guy on the tram home and I need you to tell me if he’s hot or not.”

Isak rolls his eyes.

“You _need_ me to tell you?” he asks, but Eskild just goes on.

“Yeah,” he says. “Take it as the sign of my affection that it is.”

“Alright,” Isak says. “Whatever. Let me see.” Eskild hands him the phone, and Isak frowns. “No,” he says. “What? You can do better than this.”

“God,” Eskild says. “You never think anyone’s hot.”

“That is not true at all,” Isak says. “I just have standards.”

“You’re just a hopeless romantic.”

“Goodbye,” Isak says, and Eskild laughs.

“No, alright,” he says. “But find me someone pretty then.”

“God,” Isak says, “I was busy, you know,” but he still pulls the phone closer and starts scrolling through the app. “What about this guy?” he asks, eventually, angling the phone back so Eskild can see it. “He’s hot.”

“What is it with you and the hipster dudes?” Eskild asks, but takes the phone back, already typing out a message. “But yeah, he is.”

“Is that your night, then?”

“Are you staying in?” Eskild asks.

“Probably.”

“Then no.” Eskild puts the phone back in his pocket.

“What?”

“It’s been ages,” he says. “Let’s hang out.”

Which is how they end up on sitting on one of the couches an hour or so later, playing a game of cards with the TV on in the background, when Even walks in, snack-bar in his hand and sweatpants and a hoodie on. So he must have been home for a while.

“Hey,” he says. “Looks cosy. Can I join?”

Which is how they end up playing a game of cards all three of them before Even brings out his sketchbook instead, drawing in it from the end of the couch that he and Isak are now sharing. Isak goes to fetch the book he’s reading, then, and Eskild lights a couple of candles, and Isak’s thighs are pressing against Even’s shin under both of their duvets, where they meet.

So, okay.

He’s not a goddamn idiot, and he knows full well what all of this looks like and what all of this is. The thing is, though, that it’s one thing to think that Even’s a bit nice, and a completely different thing to fall in love with him. A completely different thing that Isak is going to avoid doing.

He would be a fucking idiot if he did. He would be so dumb, because Even is just out of a relationship, for God's sake, and Even had a girlfriend, which means he very easily could be straight, and Even is just being friendly, and the last time Isak feel for a friend– 

The last time Isak fell for a friend, the last time he was in love, it was with Jonas, and it almost screwed up their friendship because it did screw him up, and made him make bad choices and, besides: it hurt. It hurt, and this would hurt, too, being the pining friend again, and falling in love is just not worth it when that's how the ending looks. Falling in love is just not worth it when the slope is as risky as this. When you know the way it could hurt.

So. The solution is very simple: Just don’t fall.

He can do that, he thinks.

Once the clock strikes half past eight he glances back up to Even, only to find him fast asleep, eyes closed and chest rising and falling slowly as he hugs his duvet to his chest. His face has gone all soft, and he looks calm, so so calm, and much younger than he usually does.

Isak smiles at it, and glances back to Eskild who smiles, too, when he sees. Sitting up a little he reaches out to save Even’s sketchbook from falling to the floor. When he does Even sighs a little, burrowing deeper into the couch, but keeps sleeping.

Of course he can do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) eva is bi in this. you know it!  
> 2) i'm gonna resist my urge to comment on anything and just let the story play out on its own
> 
> do you have thoughts? you know, by now, what i'd love you to do


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! long thursday here. hope yours was good
> 
> either way, the boys are back. enjoy your reading!

**Thursday, December 7th**

_Kollektivet_

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
what are you guys doing tomorrow?  
if it’s not too inconvenient can i have a couple of guys over?  
well  
four

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
tell me more

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
the only non-straight ones are already dating

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
i’ll be out

**Isak Valtersen**  
lol  
it’s fine by me  
is it a pre-party or the end destination of the night?

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
the latter  
it’s gonna be a christmas thing  
you should come

**Isak Valtersen**  
:(

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
@ isak are we even doing anything?

**Isak Valtersen**  
oh don’t

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
@ even can we join? us and two other boys who want to meet you a bit too intense of an amount

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
definitely!  
@ isak  
you coming?

**Isak Valtersen**  
whatever  
okay  
i guess i’ll be there

*

_Even Bech Næsheim_

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
when are you off today?

**Isak Valtersen**  
15  
why?  
and why the secrecy?

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
next phase in the plan  
we’re getting a christmas tree

**Isak Valtersen**  
you’re the worst

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
meet me in front of building 2 at 15.10

**Isak Valtersen**  
...  
ok

*

By the time Isak gets out of his last seminar of the day, it’s snowing.

He sees it when it starts, through his classroom window, and smiles down at the texts that Magnus sends all of them in the groupchat, excited. When he’s finally let out and makes his way outside, Even is already there, grinning and holding his hands out to gesture towards the sky.

“You’re so easy to make happy, do you know that?” Isak says, when he’s within hearing-range, and Even takes his hands back to himself and walks backwards ahead of him.

“Don’t tell me you hate snow, too,” he says. He's wearing his big coat, just like he always is, and his scarf is already coated with the snow, white all over like he's been standing out in it instead of waiting for Isak inside.

“So, where are we going?” Isak asks, instead of answering. “Kjellands Plads?”

“You hate _snow_?" Even asks. "What’s wrong with you?”

Isak looks at him. "What if I did?" he asks, and Even raises his brows.

"You _hate_ snow?" 

Isak shakes his head. "No," he says, smiling at how surprised Even looks. "You should have seen your face though."

"Alright."

"And, besides, what would happen if I did?"

“Well,” Even says. “Then we couldn’t be friends.”

Isak raises his brows.

“But it’s okay that I don’t like Christmas?”

“No," Even says. "But we’re changing that.”

Isak just shakes his head.

“So where are we going?” he asks.

Even laughs.

They do end up at Kjellands Plads, then, and find a tree pretty quickly. As Even pays, Isak watches it get bundled up. After that’s done they carry it home, one end on Isak’s shoulder and one on Even’s, and as they do the snow continues falling into their hair and onto their jackets and onto the tree, until it’s covered in a sheen of white.

When, eventually, they make it home, they have to file into the bathroom to shake the snow out of their boots and shrug off their coats, so it won’t melt all over the hallway floor.

On the way home Even explains that Sonja will come over with his Christmas decorations at four and, a quarter of an hour or so after they come home, their doorbell rings. Isak stays in the living room with the cup of tea that Even made him as he made him own, as Even goes to open the door for her. He can hear them easily from here.

“Hey,” Sonja says, when the door is opened.

“Hey, you.”

There’s a pause where their clothes rustle and, then: 

“So, here it all is. Let me tell you, I was quite surprised at how much I could find.”

“Was it a lot of trouble?”

“Oh no, it was fine,” she says. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Even says. “Thank you, though. And for coming over with it, too.”

“Sure,” she says.

“Hm.” Then: “Wanna see it? The tree?”

“Oh,” she says. “Yeah, alright. Lead the way.”

A moment later they appear in the doorway. Even has a hand to her upper back, and keeps it there as he gestures to the tree with his other one, excitedly. Sonja’s smiling at him, and she's pretty, and they look good together. They definitely look good together.

Right.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Even asks.

“She?” Sonja says. “Are trees like ships, now?”

“Yeah,” Even says. “Sure.” Then: “And this is Isak.” He gestures to Isak, now, so Isak gets off the couch and comes closer, reaching out a hand for her to shake. She takes it. “One of my roommates.”

“Hey,” Sonja says.

“Hi.”

She smiles. “So,” she says. “Are you surviving living with him?”

“Uh.” Isak glances to Even and back to her, not quite knowing if she’s joking or not, not really knowing anything about her enough to gather how he's supposed to react to that. “Yeah, I mean...”

“Oh, don’t corner him,” Even says, probably seeing his hesitation, which Isak is grateful for. It must have been a joke, though, because Sonja just snorts.

“No, I have to,” she says. “I have a list.” When Even raises his brows at her in question she holds up her fingers, counting, as she keeps talking: “Corner Even’s friends,” she says, first finger up. “Ask about his meds.” Even snorts, too. “Question his excitement.”

“Oh, you think you’re funny now,” Even says, but he’s smiling.

“Hm,” she says, smiling, too. “I always was, you just stopped seeing it.”

“Woah.” Even holds up his hands as if in surrender, and Isak feels exactly like he does around Jonas and Eva sometimes, like he's walked in on history that he's not apart of and won't ever be; like he's third-wheeling it, a little out of place, and he never really realised before that you could be a third-wheel to a disagreement just as much as you can be a third-wheel to love. “Okay. Point taken.”

She smiles, though. A moment later, he does, too. And Isak:

Isak is only more adamant, now, to continue shutting things down.

*

Later that afternoon, after Even has walked Sonja back to the door, Isak sits with him on the floor next to the tree, and decorates it.

Even brings his wireless stereo into the living room from his room, and, again, puts on Christmas music. Before he sits down with Isak he goes to the kitchen to make them two cups of cocoa, so Isak remembers to get the day’s chocolate out of his Advent calendar.

When Even sees it, he grins.

His Christmas decorations are a mismatch of things, with no real common thread. Somehow, though, as they all start slowly taking residence on the tree, they all start making sense, too, and Isak finds himself smiling at that, a little fondly.

“So,” he says, while Buble is singing _it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas_ , and the yellow hue of the lamp in the corner of room has picked up where the daylight left off. “Are you ever going to give me the story of why you love Christmas so much?”

“The story?” Even asks.

“Hm.”

“Well.” Even pauses in his tracks as he thinks. Isak keeps hanging on baubles on the branches he can reach from here as he waits. At this point the whole room smells of the spruce. “I think it’s the tradition, you know?”

“Hm,” Isak says. “Just that?”

“Well.” Even shrugs. “I guess I just always knew that, no matter what, Christmas would be the same.”

Isak nods. He supposes that’s true for him, too. It's just that it highlights the change, for him, reminds him of everything that's different to how it used to be, and he's not so sure he likes that. Still. He understands.

“Even when I was having a bad time,” Even goes on. “You know, there’d be this thing I could return to, that’d be the same, and that I knew would make me happy.”

“Hm,” Isak says, and wants to say, _tell me more about this bad time, because I want to know everything_ , but doesn’t. He doesn’t like people prying in his business, so he’s not going to start prying in Even’s, now. “I guess I could see that.”

“Yeah?” Even asks, and Isak nods. “Also, it’s just the one month of the year where you’re expected to spend some quality time with people and all of that, so you have an excuse to make people hang out with you. You know? To have a bit of company. And it’s dark, and you’re inside a lot, and the lights are pretty, and it’s just very… intimate.”

“Intimate?” Isak says, and Even smiles into the box of Christmas decorations without looking at him.

“Hm.”

“Sexy.”

Even grins, shaking his head as he continues looking into the box. “I knew it came out wrong the moment I said it,” he says, and Isak giggles.

“I mean Eskild has a kink for planning, so if you feel bad about your Christmas kink I’m sure you and him could start up a roommate group-therapy about it,” he says, breaking into giggles again halfway through when Even looks up to flip him off.

“Ha ha,” he says. “Shut up.”

“Hm,” Isak says, still smiling, but then schools it out of his face. “No,” he says, as he clears his throat. “Go on.”

“You’re an idiot,” Even says. Isak just shakes his head.

“Go on,” he says. “You were making a pretty good case.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Okay.” Even breathes. “Well. I guess there’s the fact that I get to see my extended family, too.” He looks at Isak. “My cousin just got a dog.”

Isak snorts. “That’s why you like seeing your extended family?” he asks.

“Mm.”

“Mm-hm?”

“Yeah.” Isak rolls his eyes, as they both grin. “Anyway,” Even goes on. “You wanna talk about why you don’t like Christmas?”

“No.”

Even just shrugs. “Okay,” he says. “I won’t ask, then. But!” Isak raises his brows at him, in question. “This is nice, right?”

What?” Isak says. “What are you getting at?”

“Isak, one,” Even says, holding up both of his hands and lifting a finger on only one of them. Then, lifting a finger on the other one: “Christmas, one.”

“Oh, shut up.” Even snorts. “Also, I had two points last time, you’re cheating.”

“You ate the Advent calendar chocolate just before, you can’t keep that point.”

“What?” Isak says. “That’s not in the rules.”

“You think there are any rules here?” Even asks. When Isak looks at him, he raises his brows. “Love and war, baby,” he says. “Anything goes in love and war.”

Oh.

_And which one is this?_ Isak thinks. And doesn’t say.

*

_Kollektivet_

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
so isak and i have a surprise  
@eskild can we use your fairy lights?

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
you intrigue me, young one  
so yes  
but only if you do something magnificent with them

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
how’s this?  
[picture of the christmas tree, decorated with baubles and the fairy lights, isak sitting in front of it with a grimace on his face]

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
is baby jesus a part of the decoration?

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
HOW did you get him to do that?

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
we should do a nativity setup and place isak in the manger  
do we have room in the living room?

**Isak Valtersen**  
no eskild  
we should not

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
i think that’s a great idea actually

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
me too

**Isak Valtersen**  
i hate you all

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
<3  
it really is beginning to look a lot like christmas, isn’t it?

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
i like it

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
see, Is?  
you’re outnumbered  
christmas is great

**Isak Valtersen**  
we’ll see

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
we will?

**Isak Valtersen**  
well, yeah  
it’s not the 24th yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't blame even for not knowing that the score changed from isak-christmas 2-0 a long time ago
> 
> feedback is, as always, greatly appreciated
> 
> also someone reminded me of the movie chicken little today, so now i think you should be reminded, too. that is all


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's friday!! and this has officially been going on for more than a week. how the time flies
> 
> hope you enjoy your reading!

**Friday, December 8th**

On Friday, then, it’s the get-together.

Just like on Tuesday Isak has a day off, so he’s still half-asleep when Jonas comes home from his eight am with Magnus in tow. Staying in his bed, he listens to them pulling their shoes off in the hallway before his door slams open and they come barging in.

“Morning,” Magnus says, and Isak only opens his eyes to send him a look before he closes them again, turning to his other side, away from them, and pulls his duvet up to his chin. Magnus just dumps himself on the bed next to him.

“Dude,” Isak says.

“Come on.” Magnus touches his shoulder through the duvet. “We’re going to make brunch, and you’re going to join us, it’s decided. You can bring your goddamn duvet with you if you need to. Can’t any of you afford to turn on the fucking heat?”

“No,” Jonas says. “Only Eskild.”

“I was _sleeping_ ,” Isak says.

“And now you’re not. Isn’t it wonderful how that works? Come on, sleepy-head.”

“Jonas?” Isak says.

“Yeah?”

“Will you hit him over the head for me?”

Jonas laughs. Magnus, however, hits him over the head with his pillow a few times until he manages to wrestle it away from him again, placing it under his stomach to save it from his hands.

“Come _on_ ,” Magnus says.

And, okay: after sighing loudly about it and grumbling a bit more, Isak does. But he brings the goddamn duvet with him.

They go to the kitchen, just like Magnus suggested, and they're still sitting there, Isak trying to ignore the others enough to do some of his readings when, at around one, Mahdi comes over and, at around half past one, Even comes home too.

“Hi,” Magnus says, when he sees him, and gets up immediately to throw his arms around him in a hug. Even, who’s still in his jacket and boots, stumbles a bit but, after a moment, hugs him back, kinder, probably, than any of the rest of them. Isak catches Jonas's eye and rolls his own. “I’m Magnus. I’m sure all you’ve heard about me are good things.”

Even smiles. 

“Sure,” he says, keeping a hand on Magnus’s shoulder even after Magnus lets him go. “At least that’s all I’ve listened to.”

“Oh." Magnus turns to the rest of them with a grin. "I like him.” 

"Chill," Isak says.

“So.” Even shakes Mahdi's hand, too, before looking around at all of them. “How big fans of Christmas are you all?” 

“Why?” Magnus asks.

“Because,” Even says. Looks at them. “For tonight, you’re going to need to be big ones.”

*

He’s right.

By the time his friends come over at six the rest of them have already been listening to Christmas music for too long, and him and Magnus have already become too good friends for anyone’s liking.

They order pizza then, from the halal place down the street, and Even makes mulled wine again that the ones of them who drink get tipsy on in no time. And then: Even makes them make goddamn Christmas cut-out decorations.

If anything, Isak thinks, his persistence must be admired.

Throughout the night he’s surprised by how tactile they all are. Mikael, who Isak has already met, has an arm around Adam the entire night, and while Isak quickly learns that they’re either party-kissers or a bit more than friends, the rest of them are the same. Halfway through the game Mutta leans against Even’s shoulder, and Even reaches out to pull him into a cuddle. And Isak:

Isak finds himself smiling at them.

“So, wait,” Magnus says, not long after, and Isak already dreads what he'll say, because he’s wearing that if-you-get-away-with-it-you-get-away-with-it look of his that Isak wishes he knew a little less well. “How many of you are dating?”

“Dude,” Mahdi says but, luckily, the rest of them laugh.

“Just me and this guy,” Mikael says, pointing up to Adam, who has an arm around him now, and proving Isak correct.

“Yep.” Adam nods. “I’m the lucky one. See, we all wanna get in Mik’s pants.”

“Shut up,” Mikael says, as Even laughs again.

“What’s funny?” Jonas asks.

“No, I had a crush on him once, that’s the joke,” Even says, and Isak thinks, oh, what a way to come out and, _oh._ So he's not straight.

Oh, no, he's not straight. 

“Can you blame him?” Adam asks, and Mikael rolls his eyes as Even turns to him and winks.

“Sounds dramatic,” Magnus says.

“Oh, it was.” Even nods. “We were best friends and everything. I mean, we are.” He looks at Mikael. “It's just right now he hates me and Adam both, probably, but most of the time we are,” he adds, and Mikael and Adam both smile. “But it’s kind of a funny story now.”

And, yeah. Isak knows something about that. Well. Him and Jonas both.

He can't stop thinking about it, though. He almost wishes he didn't know, actually, wishes he hadn't been told because goddammit it's hard to keep the treacherous thoughts from creeping in when he knows that– that Even likes boys. Oh, God, Even likes boys.

Well, fuck.

He has to ask about it, though. As much as he wishes he didn't know, he wants to know everything, too, so he has to ask, he has to, and, once the clock starts hitting the early night he gets to, too. 

They file outside to share a blunt.

“So,” Isak says, once they're huddled in their coats and tripping on their feet, freezing a little bit. The snow from yesterday is still on the ground, and the frost is biting to Isak's cheeks, but the joint they're passing back and forth between them helps a little bit. “Can I have the rest of the story? With the Mikael thing?”

Even looks at him. And Isak has never really seen him like this before, he realises. He’s always been happy around Isak, but now: now there’s a hint of something more mellow underneath. He’s smiling less, now, and when he speaks it’s with a less joking tone than it usually is.

“If you want to know,” he says. And Isak would never want to pry, so:

“Only if you want to share.”

Even assesses him. Then, after a moment, he smiles. It’s sombre.

“Okay,” he says. “Well." He swallows. "So I was crushing on him, like I said, and it was quite painful, really. I was eighteen, and I’d only just gotten together with Sonja, and it was all very confusing, really, and then–”

He breaks off, and stays that for a while.

“Then I went manic,” he says, and Isak understands why.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Even says. Swallows, glances back at Isak, smiles again, but a little sadly, this time. “So I kissed him,” he says. “And then I crashed. Really badly. Like, _really_ badly.” He looks at Isak. “The only way out is to die kind of badly.”

Well, fuck.

Isak’s heart sinks. He closes his eyes, swallows, then opens them again. When he does, Even is looking at him, and he nods with a sad sort of expression on his face.

“Yeah,” he says. “That’s– how I feel about it, too.” He shrugs. “He was so angry, for so long. Not that I kissed him, or anything, just… that I almost died.” Isak nods, silent. Waiting. Not wanting to interrupt. “It almost ruined us. It’s a miracle, really, that it didn’t.”

“He loves you,” Isak says. Looking at him, Even nods, smiling a little. It’s still sad.

“Yeah,” he says. “That’s what tears you apart sometimes.”

Isak wishes he had something to say to that, but he doesn’t. He stays silent, instead, and for a while they share it. Until:

“So what about you and Sonja?” he asks.

“Well,” Even says, sighing again. “She stayed. I told her, you know, and we talked about it, and I cared for the both of them, but I chose to commit myself to her. So… and…” And now he’s smiling. “It was really good for a long time. It really was.”

The smile stops.

“And then it changed.”

“You miss her?” Isak asks, and Even shrugs.

“I miss the people we were together back in the beginning,” he says. “It wasn’t good in the end, and it would have killed our friendship to stay together much longer, so I was relieved, actually, when it ended, but… I don’t know. Four years is a long time, and I gave a lot of myself to her, and she gave a lot of herself to me, and we shared our youth, and she was my first love, and…”

He sighs. A long one.

“I wouldn’t get back together with her now if I had the choice,” he says, and Isak wishes he didn't pay a little bit of extra attention to that, but he does. “Because we’re no longer people who fit together as lovers, I don’t think. But it’s weird, still, to have to reconcile the part of me that thinks that with the part of me that was in love with her back in the beginning. And, you know...” He looks at Isak. “Continued being in love with her for all this time.”

And, oh, Isak realises. He loved her. This isn't one of those bad relationship type of things, this is something that meant something, even if it did end, and he's struck, a little, by the fact that it doesn't make him jealous but, rather, makes him smile. At least Even's been brave enough to love someone; to throw himself into something. At least he's been brave enough to do it unapologetically. 

That's more than what Isak can say.

“Sounds hard,” he says, instead of saying any of that, and this time when Even smiles, it looks more real.

“Yeah,” he says, and shrugs. Breathes again. “It’s confusing, certainly,” he adds, and it sounds like a it’s a joke, so Isak smiles.

“And now?” he asks. “Are you going to date?”

Even shrugs. For a while, he hesitates. Then:

“I don’t know,” he says. “I’ve only ever been in love those two times, you know, Sonja and Mikael, and… heartbreak really hurts and it hurts even more to be the cause of someone else’s pain and I am, a lot, so…”

He sighs again, looks straight at Isak, then:

“I don’t think I dare.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: *whispers under my breath* character development requires a place to develop from
> 
> in other news i've been listening to this danish podcast where they read aloud and critique sex stories that people used to send in to this old magazine and let me tell you. the people out there are really bad at writing about sex
> 
> anywAY. feedback is, as always, much apprecited and loved


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy saturday but more importantly happy oh helga natt anniversary!! hope you've only been crying a little bit lol

**Saturday, December 9th**

For the first time in a long time, Isak is unable to sleep.

He tosses and he turns and he looks at the stars through his window. He gets up, and he goes back to his bed, and it’s not really helping. It’s not even that he’s thinking any actual thoughts, it’s just that his brain won’t shut the fuck up. It’s just, really, it’s just that it’s the first time he’s wanted to crawl into someone else’s bed, not to bed held, but to hold.

It’s just that it’s the first time.

*

In the end it’s four before sleep finds him, and it’s eleven before he wakes up again. When he’s up he finds Even and Magnus in the living room, sharing one of the couches, playing FIFA. Magnus is wearing Even’s sweatpants, of all things. Isak didn’t even know that he’d stayed over, so he’s a little confused when he frowns at them.

“Oh, hey.” Magnus turns around on the couch to look at him and, when Even notices, he does, too. “Morning, sleepy-head.”

“Must be a bad hangover, huh?” Even asks. Isak, however, shakes his head.

“No,” he says. “Just couldn’t sleep.” He comes further into the room. “What are you doing?”

“Playing FIFA,” Magnus says.

“Obviously, but– I just didn’t even know you were still here,” Isak says, and Magnus shrugs. Even chuckles at him.

“You really did just wake up, huh? It’s very sweet, this confusion.” Isak sends him a look. “There’s coffee in the kitchen if you want a little help waking up.”

“Hm,” Isak says. Still, he goes, and comes back a little later with coffee and toast. In the corner of the room the Christmas tree still stands, now with decorations on it, and outside it snows again. Isak watches that, and watches them, as he sips his coffee to wake up. It's nice, in a way. It's cozy, and he can't help but notice that at least some of it has to do with the fairy lights around the tree. Still lit.

“I was thinking of baking some Christmas biscuits today,” Even says, once the clock strikes around two, and maybe it’s Magnus’s excitement about it, or maybe it’s just that Isak can't really find it within him to oppose all of this anymore, but he's not even reluctant when he agrees to join.

Even’s the one who directs them around the place then, as they bake, putting on music, Christmassy as always, as they use Eskild’s cookie-cutters to make little shapes out of their dough. Once they’re in the oven Magnus leaves them for a moment, to go to the bathroom, and then it’s the first time they’re alone.

“You haven’t complained about the music today,” Even says, turned away from him as he cleans the countertop.

“No.” Isak shrugs, looking at Even from where he’s standing by the counters, too, leaning against one of them. “Well.”

“You like Michael Buble now?” Somehow, when Even says it, it doesn’t really sounds like he’s joking.

“Well,” Isak says. “I don’t know if like is the right word.”

“No?” Even asks. “What’s the right word, then? Because, either way, you’re treating me differently now.”

Oh, right. So there it is.

Isak knows, of course. Knows that he's been vocal about his annoyance up until now, knows that he hasn't been today. Can figure out why Even would dislike that, because he knows about the fears that comes with sharing, but finds it frustrating, too, that Even would think there's anything about this that isn't genuine. That isn't just a friend caring about a friend. So:

“So?” he says, and Even turns around with a look on his face.

“So?” he says. “You haven’t complained about a single thing all day and all you have to say is _so_?”

“Well, is it so bad?” Isak says. “I understand you better now, you like this stuff, why can't I want to be in on it with you?" 

“I don’t like pity.”

“It’s not pity." Isak sighs. "Even, come on. You’re my friend, can’t I do something out of care for you?”

“That’s what it is?”

“ _Yes_.” Isak looks at him. “That’s all it is.”

Even assesses him for a long moment. Then: “Okay.”

“Alright.”

“Sorry.”

“No." Isak shrugs. "It’s fine.”

They look at each other, and Even sighs, before rolling his eyes, as if at himself.

“Sensitive subject,” he says.

“I’d say.”

“Shut up,” Even says, but he’s smiling. “Whatever.”

“Can I hug you?” Isak asks, despite himself. 

Well. Not quite despite himself, since he's been thinking of it all night. And maybe it’s stupid, and maybe he feels a bit silly when Even’s eyes widen just a fraction, but he means the question, too, so he’ll stand by it. He will.

“Can you hug me?” Even asks.

“Yeah, I don’t know, okay?” Isak says. “It’s just, we haven’t hugged before, I just… thought maybe I should ask first. I mean, for a moment there it seemed like maybe you were gonna bite my head off so I just wanted to be safe–”

Before he can finish Even's arms are around him.

It feels–

It feels so good.

Isak chuckles a little into Even's shoulder, before he gets on his toes to hug him back. 

It’s been a long time since he’s hugged anyone like this, long and tight and not just a greeting. Not just a transitional thing but the main event. Like this he can truly feel how much taller Even is than him, even though he’s tall, too, but it’s nice, this, having his arms around Even and Even rubbing his back. It’s nice, this, his face in the crook of Even’s neck, nose so close to his neck he can smell the smell that’s just him and it’s nice, too, having Even turn his head to bury his nose in the hair right at his temple.

Despite the fact that he meant to hold Even, then, it seems Isak ends up being the one sagging into it. Even doesn’t appear to mind, though, just shifts a little under the added weight. And keeps holding him. Around them, the room smells like cinnamon and on the stereo Buble is singing, _It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas_ and _but the prettiest sight to see, is the holly that will be, on your own front door._

So what if Isak wants a little bit to tilt his head and kiss him? It's just how biology works. It doesn't mean that he's jumped just yet.

“Alright,” he says, when he stops hugging Even back, and waits until Even stops hugging him, too, to get off his toes and back down to his own height. “Right.” He clears his throat. “That’s an oxytocin hit if I’ve ever known one.”

Even looks at him and laughs.

“You’re weird,” he says.

Isak shrugs. “That makes two of us, then,” he says. And when Even shakes his head at him, he's smiling.

It’s like it changes something between them. It’s like all they needed was to break the ice, or maybe it’s that this is what Even’s like and that he’s only now learnt Isak will allow it. Either way, the fact of the matter is that, later, when they watch a Christmas movie together, _Home Alone_ this time, after Magnus has gone back home, their sides press together the entire time.

Isak doesn’t mind it. Isak doesn’t mind it at all.

*

Of course the fact that he got up late means that, when it’s time to actually go back to bed, Isak is no longer tired.

First, he tries tossing and turning for a bit, just like he did yesterday, but it doesn’t work much. Eventually, then, he gets up and out of bed, pulling the duvet close around him but staying in just his boxers and his T-shirt, as he goes to get a glass of water in the kitchen.

On the way back, when he walks past Even’s room, he sees a yellow strip of light spilling out from under the door of it, and normally he wouldn’t, but something, tonight, compels him to knock.

“Hm?” Even calls, through the door, so Isak pushes the door open. When Even sees him, he smiles. “Oh. Hey.”

“You’re not sleeping?” Isak asks.

“I was just working on an essay,” Even says. “But I was just editing it, it can wait. Can’t sleep?”

“No,” Isak says. “Not really.”

“Well, come on in then.”

Even gestures Isak inside with a nod of his head. Isak only hesitates for a second before he steps inside, closing the door softly behind him, and comes over to Even’s bed. Even pats the space behind himself so, after hesitating a little more, Isak crawls onto it, too.

The whole flat seems to be shrouded in that sort of quiet that’s not emptiness, but, rather, a lot of people co-existing in sleep. Something about it makes being in here, in Even’s room, feel much more intimate than Isak suspects it’d feel in daylight.

After a second of clicking around on his laptop Even closes it and puts it to the side, on the floor next to his bed. After that he lies down, under his duvet, facing Isak, and Isak copies him.

“You okay?” Even asks, quietly. Isak supposes it’s the night that does it.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” Even says, and Isak nods, just a little. It’s a lazy movement, and all of Even’s movements are lazy, too. Already, Isak feels more ready to sleep than he did just moments before. “You wanna talk?”

“About?”

“Anything. Why you have a hard time sleeping?”

“Hm,” Isak says. And the thing is, normally he doesn’t like sharing, and, okay, he’s only known Even for about a week – _has he really only known Even for about a week_? – but there’s something about him that tells Isak that they’ll know each other for a long time. Longer than a long time. So:

“It started when I was younger,” he whispers, into the dark of the room, offering his secrets to it as much as to Even, hoping it’ll soak it up well enough that they’ll be kept safe come morning light. “My dad left.”

Even closes his eyes.

“Oh,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Hm,” Isak says. “Well. My mum is ill, so… I guess he just couldn’t take it. And then one day he was just gone. And he’s back now, actually, but…”

“You don’t really forget something like that?” Even suggests, when Isak doesn’t continue, and Isak nods, quietly.

“Yeah,” he says. Inhales. “Yeah. So...”

“So?”

“I don’t know,” Isak says. “I think the thing I’m most annoyed at is just that… it’s still affecting me now, you know. That he had the power to give me issues that are still there.”

It's just that he's never fucking loved anyone. It's just that he only throws himself into things if there's a safety-net, that he never gives enough of himself to people that it would tear him apart to lose them, that he always keeps that tiny bit of distance there to keep himself safe. It's just that he doesn't know how to change that.

“I just,” he goes on. “I don't know. I don’t really dare either, I don't think.” Even looks at him, and Isak swallows, and they're talking about love, anyway, in some roundabout sort of way, and he might as well bring it all the way there. So: "The only time I've been close to being in love was when I had this crush on Jonas, actually."

But he was safe, Isak thinks. Nothing was going to happen, Jonas was never going to feel the same, and maybe that's the only reason Isak even dared to begin with. Because it couldn't hurt in a way that would be a surprise. Because it was already hurting as much as it ever would.

Even, though: Even smiles, just a little, and Isak likes the look of it.

"Well," Even says. "Guess we're both sad in that regard, huh?"

Isak snorts, softly but honestly.

“Yeah,” he says. “Maybe. At least we’re sad together, then.”

Even's smile widens.

“Yeah,” he says, blinking out something that looks like fondness. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“What for?” Isak asks.

“Sharing.”

Isak smiles. And when Even reaches out to lift a curl off his forehead with an index finger, he keeps smiling, but closes his eyes into it.

"You're very kind," he says. Across the mattress, Even huffs out a breath.

"Thank you," he says, and Isak smiles because even saying _thank you_ is such a kind thing to do. "But can I tell you a secret?"

Isak nods, opening his eyes again. "Yeah?"

"I do try to be because I think you should." Even looks at him, and Isak looks back. Then Even smiles, just a little, tinted around the edges with something sad. "But I also just like to be kept company."

And oh. _Oh._

So that's why Even cooked all of those dinners for them. So that's why Even brought them into the living room, in front of the TV, into the kitchen together. So that's why Even's been doing so much to have them around.

"I also just like not being alone."

And oh. If that doesn't make Isak want to stay here and never leave.

It’s not on purpose, then, but when Even’s hand settles on his upper back, Isak finds himself inching in a little closer until, in the end, Even’s arm is firmly placed around him and his face is almost buried in Even’s chest. After a moment, Even raises his duvet and settles it back down, so it covers Isak, too. Their knees knock together under it.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

Isak nods. “Yeah.”

“You tired now?”

“Yeah.”

Even huffs out a breath, sounding bemused. Acting braver than he feels, then, Isak reaches out to sneak an arm around his waist, too, bunching up his t-shirt at his back between his fingers, and glances back up at him.

“This okay?” he asks, and Even nods.

“Yeah.”

They smile, together.

No more than ten minutes later, Isak has fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have the last two chapters been the thesis statement of this whole thing? it's getting there, that's for sure
> 
> anyway, as always please let me know what you're thinking in the comments, i love it when you do!
> 
> also i might have a canon anniversary thing planned for tomorrow? me @ me: focus on academia instead of evak maybe? also me @ me: no!!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! on this beautiful anniversary of what i'd probably count as the boys anniversary. hope you've had a great sunday! and that you'll enjoy this

**Sunday, December 10th**

Sunday when he wakes up he’s still in Even’s bed. It’s snowing outside again. And he's not alone.

Even, apparently a morning person on Sunday’s too, isn’t lying down next to him but, rather, sitting up against his headboard, duvet still pulled up to his hoodie-clad chest, with his sketchbook open. He’s drawing in it.

After a moment, then, he glances down from his sketch to Isak, absentmindedly, as if it’s him he’s drawing. And jumps.

“Fuck,” he says, hand to his chest, and Isak startles out a laugh. “Shit. I was not expecting you to be looking back at me.”

“Sorry.” Isak says, laughing up at him, and if there was going to be any tension between them they've certainly broken it now. “Sorry.” Even moves his hand over his chest, taking a deep breath, and Isak grins. “Morning, though.”

“I’d say,” Even says, and Isak chuckles again. “Here I was, thinking I was being sneaky. I’m certainly awake now, though.”

“Sorry.”

“Hm,” Even says, before looking at down at him with a warm, little smile. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah.” Isak nods. _Very_ well. Like a goddamn rock, really, weirdly enough, so deeply asleep he might as well have been passed out for eight hours. Normally sharing a bed with someone else means fitful sleep for him, but tonight: tonight was the best goddamn night of sleep he’s had in ages.

“Nice.”

“Hm,” Isak agrees. Then, sitting up and drawing the duvet with him up to his chest, shoulder pressed up against Even’s when he joins him at the headboard: “What are you drawing?”

“You,” Even says.

“Me?”

“Hm.”

“Can I see?” he asks, but Even shakes his head.

“Nope,” he says, and folds the sketchbook together before Isak can even consider sneaking a look, leaning over to place it on the floor by his bed. “Not yet, at least.”

“Not yet?” Isak repeats, and Even shakes his head again in confirmation. “When, then?”

Even shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe for Christmas.”

For _Christmas._

“Is this the next step in the make Isak like Christmas again plan?" Isak asks. "Bribing me?”

“Yeah.” Even nods, grin on his face. “Exactly.”

“Mm?” Isak says, rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling, too. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Thank you,” Even says. And Isak: 

Isak keeps smiling

*

Somehow, then, they end up staying in Even’s bed for most of the day.

First, Even sneaks into the kitchen to get them breakfast and coffee and, as he’s in there, Isak makes a trip to his own room where he pulls on some sweatpants and a hoodie, like always. He brings his biology book and his laptop, too, and then, after eating, while Even works on his assignment, he reads through his pages for the week and takes notes.

Sana is going to love him.

He expected it would feel a bit awkward, honestly, to have fallen asleep in the same bed, cuddling. He expected that maybe something would have changed, but nothing does, and he can’t figure out if it’s because the thing they’ve developed into was something they already were, or because they’ve not really become anything new at all.

He can’t explain it, either, but, the thing is: it just feels nice. Even’s knee knocking into his own under the covers, Even’s bony elbow pressed into his side, Even’s shoulder pressed up against his own. It feels nice, and he’s resisting it a bit, how nice it feels, because he’d be a fucking idiot if he didn’t, but he can’t deny the fact that it does.

Come afternoon, then, Even leaves to go to the bathroom for a moment and, while he’s gone, Eskild comes barging into the room with wide eyes.

“Did you–?” he asks, pointing to Isak, who’s still, very much, in Even’s bed.

“What?”

“Fuck?”

“No!” Isak says, gesturing with his hand for Eskild to lower the volume of his voice. “Shut up.”

“Well, it’s not my fault that’s what it looks like,” Eskild says.

“Stop talking!” Isak says. “He could come in any minute.”

Something about that must strike with Eskild in a way that Isak didn’t intend it, because his face goes sober, then, almost sad, in that way it looked when he was picking Isak up at the gay bar all of those years ago, too.

“Isak,” he says, and suddenly Isak’s chest hurts a little. Phantom heartache, maybe.

“I’m not–” he tries. “I’m not an idiot.” And Eskild keeps looking sad.

“He just got out of a relationship.”

“I know,” Isak says. “Which is why I’m not an idiot.”

Eskild assesses him for a moment more, and then: He sighs, solemn expression on his face, still, and comes over closer to the bed. Then joins Isak in it.

“Stop it,” Isak says, when Eskild tries putting an arm around him, and pushes it away a little, but allows it, still, when Eskild puts it to the headboard behind him instead. “I know what I’m doing, okay, I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“I’m not doing anything, I’m just holding you,” Eskild says. “Can’t a guru hold his protégé?”

“Shut up,” Isak says, but leans into him a little bit anyway, and allows it, then, when Eskild’s hand moves from the headboard to his shoulder and pulls him in. “I’m fine.”

“I believe you.”

“Okay.”

“Uh,” Even says, then, appearing in the doorway, and Isak clears his throat. “What are you doing?”

“I’m being cuddled by force,” Isak says.

“It’s in the contract he signed when I became his guru.”

“Right,” Even says, frowning at them, before he comes closer. “Okay.” He gets back in the bed, on Isak’s side. “You guys are very weird.”

“Thanks,” Eskild says. “But, actually, he was going to help me find a hot guy on Grindr to meet up with this afternoon.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Sweet,” Even says, and Isak sighs because he thinks it's so beautiful, the ways in which Even is kind, and because he thinks Even doesn't really need to be this welcoming to everybody. Eskild especially. “Can I join?”

“You can,” Eskild says, smiling, now, and fishes his phone out of the pocket of his dressing gown, scrolling through it for a moment before he hands it to Even. Isak pushes his arm off his shoulder, now, and places it back to his own side.

“What?” Eskild says.

“You can’t cuddle me while you talk about having sex.”

“Why?” Eskild asks, but then–

“What about this guy?” Even asks, interrupting them, and maybe that means he's back in Isak's good graces again. Isak leans over to him to look at the picture, and Even angles his phone so he can see.

“Yeah,” Isak says. “He’s hot.”

“Give it,” Eskild says, and Even hands the phone over. Then: “No! What? You’re both hopeless. You have to stop this hipster stuff, what’s wrong with a nice boy with some nice abs? Preferably six of them?”

“They just all look so anonymous,” Even says. Eskild fixes him with a look.

“Well,” he says. “I’m not going to marry them on my family’s mountainside farm, am I, I’m just going to hook up with them.”

Even laughs.

“No, alright," he says. "I guess." 

"Wait." Now Eskild turns to him with a mischievous smile on his face, and Isak is already back to rolling his eyes. "Do I hear that you like boys, too?"

"Yeah?"

Eskild keeps looking at him. Even, it seems, doesn't understand what's happening, and, after a while, he raises his brows back at Eskild, in question. Isak decides to take mercy on him.

"That look," he says, and Even turns to him, now. "It means he wants to make you one."

"Oh," Even says, shaking his head. "Nah."

"Really?" Isak says. "Now you've disappointed him."

"You would have," Eskild says. "But this guy wants to video call, so I'm actually going to go instead. Be good, kids," he finishes, as he gets off the bed and sneaks through the door and out of Even's room, leaving them alone again.

"That was fast," Even says, and Isak turns to him to nod.

"Yeah," he says. "He's usually very fast." And then, because Even just said that he didn't want them to make him one: "That's not your style?"

"Well," Even says, smiling a little as he shrugs. "Actually, I don't really know. I didn't really... before Sonja." He looks at Isak and Isak, surprised but getting what he means, nods. "And I haven't since. So."

"Oh," Isak says, and feels a little bit bad about all of the images this talk makes his brain fire through, as he swallows. "Right."

"Really," Even says. "I have absolutely no idea how to approach the dating scene of men. Actually, Mikael and the guys took me to this gay bar a few weeks after I broke up with Sonja and this guy came up to flirt with me-" He chuckles, like the memory amuses him, and Isak chuckles, too, because he does. "And I just..." He looks at Isak. "Completely blanked." Isak chuckles, again. "I had no idea what to do."

"Hm," Isak says, still giggling. "That's funny."

"Yeah," Even says. "Now it is." Isak keeps grinning. "It wasn't then." 

"No, I guess not."

"Maybe if I'm going to get with a boy, it should be someone I already know. Hell, I don't even know if I want to do anything with someone I'm not in love with."

_In love with_ , Isak thinks, and hates that that makes him turn to Even to get a good look at him. That that makes his heart skip a beat.

"I thought," he says, his mouth a little bit dry. "I thought you said you weren't going to fall in love with anyone again?"

"Oh, no," Even says, shaking his head. "I'm definitely going to." 

Isak looks at him. Looks and looks and looks and looks, and it's so damn treacherous but he can't deny the little bit of hope it sparks within him, even though he shouldn't be hoping for something he's holding himself back from, goddammit, for something he has no intention of delving into. Still. It's how he feels.

"It's just everything that comes after I'm kind of terrified of."

"Right," Isak says.

Right.

He swallows, and licks his lips as he keeps looking at Even, watching him and watching him and watching him, as Even watches him back. Watches him back, and doesn't look away, like they're bound to each other by gravity. 

If it's gravity, there's only so much resisting Isak can do before he'll have to move in closer.

"Right," he says, and Even swallows and licks his lips, too, before opening his mouth, like he's going to speak, and then–

The door to Isak's room slam opens.

It's Eskild.

"So," he says, and Isak only now notices how quickly his heart is beating in his chest. "Hipster guy wants to come over, so unless you want to listen in, I think it's about to be laundry time."

God, Isak thinks. Fuck. 

Fuck.

But stil:

"Okay," he says, clearing his throat before he takes in a deep breath. "Right. Landry time." 

*

Even joins him in the basement, and as luck would have it they actually do both have laundry to do, and as luck would have it, too, the tension between them is almost gone, and it’s fine, really, it’s not that bad.

Except for the part where Even, as he sorts through his laundry, decides to pull his hoodie off and throw that in the machine, too. Except for the part where, suddenly, like he hardly ever is because of the cold, Isak is confronted with seeing the way Even’s biceps move under his T-shirt when he moves, and the way Even’s collarbones stand out against his skin and, even worse, the way Even’s neck looks, planes of skin all stretched out, when he throws his head back to laugh.

So maybe, that night, when he sneaks his hand under the waistband of his own boxers, it’s those biceps and that neck he’s thinking about. So maybe it’s Even he imagines making room for, in-between his thighs.

So maybe he’s tethering dangerously close to the edge, but it’s true what he said: he’s not an idiot. And tethering close is not synonymous with jumping.

At least he’s almost certain it’s not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yada yada yada, comments would be great, you know the drill by now
> 
> and hey. i hear you saying that you want to read an anniversary fic about the canon boys last year? fear not, it's right [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12971175)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello! it's been a long monday for me, but then again mondays always are. hope this helps a little bit on yours. enjoy!

**Monday, December 11th**

Monday morning he’s just as grumpy as he usually is, and it’s not made particularly easier by the fact that Even appears at their front door at nine thirty looking prettier than ever, hair done up for the first time in days.

On the tram, then, he stays silent, as Jonas and Even chat along about their plans for the day and uni and, of all things, the new Star Wars movie that Jonas suggests they go watch together when it comes out.

Halfway through Isak closes his eyes, tired as he always is on Mondays and, after a moment, a hand sneaks into the crook of his elbow from Even’s side, tugging him a little to the side as if to make room for someone to pass.

Even doesn’t pull it back, though. Instead, the hand stays there for the rest of the ride.

“See you at five?” he asks, after they’ve filed out of the tram and he’s walking towards his own building, backwards, to keep eye-contact.

“Yeah,” Isak says. “See you at five.”

When he finds a seat in his lecture hall, he feels a little less bad.

*

_Even Bech Næsheim_

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
so you haven’t told me yet what a guy like you does for lunch on these kinds of days

 **Isak Valtersen**  
a guy like me?  


**Even Bech Næsheim**  
correct  


**Isak Valtersen**  
we have it with the boys you met and sana  
eastern canteen  
and then groupwork with sana, after

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
can i come?  
with some of my boys, too?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
sure

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
unless you’ve grown sick of me by now

 **Isak Valtersen**  
1) you need to work on your fishing skills  
and 2)  
not quite yet

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
it worked, didn’t it  
and good answer  
see you later, then

 **Isak Valtersen**  
yeah  
see you later

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
<3

*

Once again, then, Monday is the day of shared lunch but, this time, Even is there, too, with the rest of the boys.

“You did what?” Sana asks, as they make their way there.

“I said Even could join us with his friends today.”

“One of whom is my brother?”

“Oh–” Isak says, only understanding now what she’s been on about. “What? You can’t survive having lunch with your brother for one day?”

“No,” Sana says. Isak sends her a look, and she sends him one back. “Also,” she adds. “I can’t believe how fast it’s happening with you. I thought you were supposed to have willpower?”

“What are you on about now?”

“Normally," she says, still looking at him. "It takes a while for people to go soft under Even’s influence, but for you it’s just like a switch has flipped. Instantaneous, I’m telling you.”

“Oh, shut up,” he says. “That’s an exaggeration if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Uh, sure. So Eva was lying when she said Jonas told her you helped Even put up a Christmas tree? And she was lying when she said there was a picture?”

“I’ll kill him.”

“You hate Christmas.”

“No comment,” he says, and she laughs. “What are you even complaining about, Yousef is coming, too, probably.”

“One, Yousef is off on Mondays so you’re not as smart as you think you are and, two,” she says, fixing him with a look. “Stay out of my business.”

He laughs.

Once they make it to lunch everyone else is already sitting there, huddling around a table in the corner of the canteen that isn’t really big enough for how big their group is now, too, including the girls.

“So,” Magnus says, once everyone’s properly settled. “It was nice to be chill and all last Friday, but what are the plans for this one? Hopefully something that involves a bit more beer. Non-alcoholic, for those who want it,” he adds, looking back at Mahdi who’s sending him a look. “I’m down with it.”

“We have a thing,” Mikael says, gesturing to Even who’s sitting besides him, too. “Our course does a Christmas movie themed thing every year, apparently. This year it’s _The Holiday_.”

“ _The Holiday_?” Jonas asks. “The one with…”

“Jack Black and Jude Law, yeah,” Even says. “Great movie. Good love story.”

“Ev thinks Jude Law looks hot in it,” Mutta says.

“He does.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Mikael says, and Even grins at him. “Regardless of which British actors Ev does or does not find attractive, we could all go to that.”

“Fine by me,” Jonas says. “Guys?”

They all nod. “I’m in,” Mahdi says.

“So are we,” Elias says.

“Deal, then,” Even says. “Friday it is.”

Friday it is.

*

_Jude Law’s number one fans_

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
as mags so cleverly suggested it’d be cool if we had a shared groupchat for friday planning so here it is  
i think i managed to add you all  
if not you’re not here to point out my mistake so. too bad

 **Magnus Fossbakken**  
cool!

_Mutasim Tatouti changed the name of your chat to Jude Law’s number one fans_

**Yousef Acar**  
what is this again?

 **Adam Malik**  
we’re going to the nerds uni party on friday

 **Mikael Øverlie Boukhal**  
uh  
thanks?

 **Adam Malik**  
i meant ev

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
i’ll take it

 **Mikael Øverlie Boukhal**  
you don’t have any decision in taking it if it’s just the truth

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
okay nevermind the only people who are invited are my new friends bye guys i’m breaking up with you

 **Mutasim Tatouti**  
except me

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
sure, except you  
<3  
now stop talking about me, we have our seminar so i won’t be able to defend myself and i don’t trust any of you all to do it for me

 **Adam Malik**  
have fun!

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
thanks  
(mik says  <3)

 **Adam Malik**  
<3

*

That evening, just like last time, Even meets him at the station where they get on the tram home together. 

This time, they find a seat down the back, and this time Isak feels used to it, almost, when he presses up close against Even’s side with his own, their shoulders and thighs touching.

”Good day?” Even asks, after they’ve sat down.

”Yeah,” Isak says. “Pretty good day.” And then, grinning already: “Although I had to have lunch with this horrible guy-“

”Oh, fuck you,” Even says, and Isak laughs. “I’m delightful.”

”Mm,” Isak says, and keeps smiling. 

Outside it’s dark, and the lights of the city reflect in the windows, Christmassy and red. A woman in front of them is holding a big bag of wrapped things in her lap, and Isak doesn’t mind as much as he would have just last week. 

”No,” he goes on. “It was nice. I like your friends.”

”Yeah?” Even says, and Isak nods. “I like yours, too." 

"Thanks," Isak says.

"And I like mine. We’ve been through a lot.” Even smiles, a little mellow. “In some ways, I think they’re the loves of my life.”

Who says something like that? Who? And why is it the first thing that makes Isak realise that if anyone touched him like the Yakuza boys touched Jonas back in their second year at Nissen, then Isak would start a fight for him, too?

”That’s really lovely,” he says, and Even is still smiling when he nods. 

”Sure,” he says. 

”Hm.” Isak slumls down in his seat just a little bit, and it makes their knees bump together. “Do you never feel left out?” he asks. “Seeing as they’re all religious and everything?”

Even shakes his head. 

”No,” he says. “Not really. I get what you mean, but if anything we all feel a bit set apart, so... it feels kind of comforting, actually.” Isak nods. "And you must know, with Sana."

Isak nods.

”Yeah,” he says. "That's true." And then, because apparently he just can’t stop sharing now: “I used to be religious, too, actually.” Even raises his brows. “Well. My mum is.”

It doesn’t pass his notice that this is one of the only things he’s told Even about her. About his parents, in general. 

”But we went to church a lot when I was younger. Sometimes I feel like that’s mt big break-up, actually.” Even smiles. “You know. With God.”

”Is that why you don’t like Christmas?” Even asks.

”No.”

”You broke up with Jesus’s dad?”

"No." Isak chuckles. "Shut up."

”Hm.”

Even looks at him. Looks at him with something warm in his eyes, something that Isak can’t quite place. Something that glistens in the lights from the Christmas decorations in the shop windows.

“You know,” he says. “You’re a really fascinating person.”

Huffing out a breath, Isak rolls his eyes.

”Right,” he says, but Even shakes his head.

”No,” he says. “You are.” And then: “Maybe it’s a good thing you keep your cards close to your chest.” 

”Sure,” Isak says. “Why?”

”Because,” Even says. “Opening up is like your super power.” 

Isak raises hos brows at him, and Even raises his own back. 

”How so?”

”Well,” Even says. “Just, you know. If you let everyone know how interesting you are, you’d never get a moment’s peace. They’d be wanting to hang out with you all the time.” Even looks at him. “They’d fall for you, left and right.”

 _As if_ , Isak wants to say, but Even:

Even could be joking. Even could be pulling Isak’s leg, or playing a joke on him, but it doesn’t look like he is. Doesn’t like like he is at all, in fact, as he watches Isak with something sincere on his face. So:

”You mean that,” Isak says, more a statement than a question, but Even still nods. 

”Yeah,” he says, and now he’s tilting his head a little, watching Isak in a way that Isak doesn’t understand but that Isak thinks might matter. “I do.”

He does. Isak can tell. So he smiles.

He couldn’t not smile.

”Thank you, then,” he says, and Even nods again. 

”It's just true,” he says. 

They fall into a comfortable silence, then, pressed close together, still, and just like last time, because he’s tired and because Even’s coat is soft and Even is warm, Isak ends up leaning a little bit against his shoulder. Through their headphones that are both connected to Even’s phone, just like last time, Even plays them both a quiet song, and then:

Unlike last time he lifts his arm from where Isak’s been pressing against it and, to Isak’s surprise, places it around him before he reaches up, silently, and cards his fingers gently through his hair. 

It happens just once. But it’s enough for Isak’s eyes to flutter closed with how lovely it feels.

“Okay?” Even asks, voice barely louder than a whisper, and Isak nods.

“Yeah,” he says, pressing himself in closer to Even’s side. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please, she begs, keep telling me nice things
> 
> also my friend, today: have you heard of that danish tv show where two people fly to a foreign country for four days as their first date?  
> me: no, but evak au of that


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! late one today because i've been busy busy busy. hope you enjoy!

**Tuesday, December 12th**

_Even Bech Næsheim_

**Isak Valtersen**  
hey  
are you going to the reading halls today?  
i brought some books this morning when i left for my 8am and might be going, too

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
yeah  
going to the one by the park  
i’ll be there at ten  
meet up outside?

**Isak Valtersen**  
deal  
<3

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
<3

*

It’s snowing again, that day, and as Isak trots the way from his lecture hall to the reading one his boots get covered in it, but he doesn’t mind that much. When he gets there Even is already waiting outside, wearing his big coat, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face, and it makes Isak smile, too.

“Hey,” he says, when he’s within hearing range. “It’s your favourite kind of weather today.”

“It is,” Even says, following him towards the entrance of the building. “Good day?”

“Hm,” Isak says. “Early day, but it’ll be fine.”

“Good,” Even says, and holds the door to the building open for Isak but then stops him, hand on his shoulder.

“Wait, hold on,” he says, and shifts so his shoulder is holding the door open as he pulls off his glove and reaches out with his naked hand to brush the snow out of Isak’s hair. “Don’t want it to melt all over you.”

“Thanks,” Isak says, and gets on his toes to do the same thing for him. “Don’t want it to melt all over you, either.”

“Thanks,” Even says, and gestures Isak inside again. “Remember to get it off your boots, too.”

Once they make it inside they find two desks not too long from each other. Even gestures to them with a nod of his head, and Isak nods back, silently, because they have to be in here. As they shrug their jackets off and hang them over the backs of their chairs, they share a smile.

They stay there for a long time, then. So long, in fact, that the seat next to Isak has time to be taken by a new student twice.

Every time he takes a break to glance up and around the room he finds Even deeply concentrated, looking at his laptop and his books with a little frown between his eyebrows that Isak kind of wants to reach over and smooth out. It’ll give him a headache if it stays too long. It’s just biology.

Eventually, then, at around two o’clock, Even reaches over to pass him a note, asking if he wants to go find something to eat and, when he reads it, Isak glances up and sends him a nod.

They go to the nearby canteen, leaving their stuff there.

Isak, first in line, gets a sandwich and Even, coming straight after him, gets a sandwich too but, also, two cups of cocoa.

“For you,” he says, after he’s paid, handing one of them to Isak, and normally Isak would make a joke about it, but Even looks different today than he normally does, tired, maybe, so in the end Isak just takes it and smiles.

“Thank you,” he says, and Even shrugs.

He continues looking tired as they eat.

It’s a big difference, for him, normally so excited and energetic, and Isak trusts their friendship enough by now to know that it doesn’t have anything to do with him but, at the same time, he’s beginning to realise how new this whole thing between them is. How little he knows of all of Even’s complexities.

How much he wants to get to know them better.

For a long time they’re just silent. Even doesn’t look like he particularly wants to find the energy to talk, and Isak doesn’t mind just existing with him, so it’s fine.

He can’t stop the way his glances linger a little longer today, though. Out of worry. And out of care.

“You okay?” he asks, eventually, and Even refocuses on him from where he was staring into the room, looking spaced out. It seems like it takes him a while to get caught back up, but then he smiles, short but there, and nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “Just tired.”

“Okay,” Isak says. He hesitates for a while, but then: “You can talk to me though.”

“Hm,” Even says, and assesses him, for a while. Isak looks back, letting him see whatever he needs to see. Eventually, then, he inhales, before he slumps back against the wall behind him.

“It’s just a lot,” he says. “I just think I hit a wall today, you know?”

“With the bipolar, or–?”

“No, no,” Even says. “Just in general.”

“Okay.” Again, Isak hesitates, waiting for more, but it doesn’t come. “Do you wanna… elaborate on that, or?” he asks, trying a smile.

It works. Even smiles, too.

“No, it’s just,” he starts, sighing again like it’s hard to breathe right now, and Isak gets that, too, the way sadness can sit on your chest in that kind of way that makes it feel like your lungs don’t really work anymore. Even runs a hand over his face.

“I’m just back and forth right now with everything I feel, you know, everything old and everything new, and my environment’s different, and… It’s just taking it out of me a bit to stay stable, I think.” He looks at Isak. “Now it’s–”

“The bipolar?”

“Yeah.” He sighs, again. “So, anyway. I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’m just tired.”

“Yeah,” Isak says. And he doesn’t like that Even is feeling like that, but he does appreciate that Even wants to share it with him. “It’s okay to be tired though, right? Maybe you just need to let yourself feel that for a bit.”

Again, Even assesses him for a moment, before he nods a little. And smiles.

“Yeah,” he says. “Maybe.”

“I can cook tonight,” Isak says. “If you want. I mean all I can make is pasta, but–" Even snorts. "It might be nice to just let yourself sit back for a bit?”

Even shrugs.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says.

“No, I know I don’t have to," Isak says, and catches his eye. "I’d like to, though.”

There’s something so vulnerable in Even’s face, then, when he looks at Isak. Something fond, but sad, too, like relief, maybe. Like maybe he’s grateful, which Isak would understand just as much as he’d think it a bit ridiculous. Everyone needs someone to look out for them sometimes.

“Okay,” Even says, then, and Isak nods.

“Okay.”

They only stay a few more hours after that before, at four, they take the tram back home. This time, when Isak leans his head on Even’s shoulder, Even leans his own on top of it, and Isak smiles to himself.

Reaching out, then, he uses the back of his index finger to caress Even’s lower arm, the only part of him easily within reach, making it travel from the crook of his elbow to the soft skin of his wrist.

In the glass divider in front of them he can see the reflection of Even smiling to himself, too.

*

_Kollektivet_

**Isak Valtersen**  
so who wants some of isak’s attempt at spaghetti carbonara tonight?

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
what on earth has gone into you little one?

**Isak Valtersen**  
shh  
i’ve cooked before

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
never for us

**Isak Valtersen**  
well excuse me for wanting to do something nice for you all now that it’s almost Christmas

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
alright alright  
i mean i don’t say no to food

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
me neither

**Isak Valtersen**  
(y)

*

_Magnus Fossbakken_

**Isak Valtersen**  
hey  
can i ask you a question about bipolar?

**Magnus Fossbakken**  
sure  
what’s up?

**Isak Valtersen**  
what comes first?  
usually, i mean

**Magnus Fossbakken**  
the chicken or the egg?

**Isak Valtersen**  
ha ha  
no  
depression or mania?

**Magnus Fossbakken**  
makes more sense  
it depends, i think  
mamma goes manic first but some people have it the other way around  
why?

**Isak Valtersen**  
no, it’s just even, you know  
he’s in a bit of a bad mood today

**Magnus Fossbakken**  
maybe he’s just in a bit of a bad mood  
it doesn’t have to be depression every time he’s down

**Isak Valtersen**  
no, i know  
i don’t think it’s that, actually  
but if he was depressed, is there anything i could do?

**Magnus Fossbakken**  
not really  
it’s nice to not have to do practical things, you know, so laundry and dinner and stuff would be nice to give him a hand with  
but other than that all you can really do is just be there for him  
ask him what he wants and see what he says

**Isak Valtersen**  
okay  
thank you

**Magnus Fossbakken**  
no problem  
bring him to lunch tomorrow?

**Isak Valtersen**  
he’s at work

**Magnus Fossbakken**  
oh well  
another time

**Isak Valtersen**  
yeah  
another time

*

Isak does make food, then, with a little help from Even who ends up sitting at the kitchen table while he cooks, quiet, still, but not as quiet as he was earlier. It's nice, actually, and slowly Even is beginning to look more tired than he looks exhausted, more sleepy than he looks downtrodden, and Isak is surprised by how much relief it gives him. 

In the evening, Mikael comes over.

They're on the couches in the living room already, when he does, and at first Isak thinks maybe it isn't planned because Even has said nothing about it before the doorbell rings and he gets up off the couch that they share like he's expecting someone. He frowns a little, staying on the couch as he listens to Even's footsteps leaving before Even opens the door and greets Mikael, welcoming him inside.

"Hey, man," Mikael says in the hallway, and Isak glances back at Eskild who's on the other couch, raising his brows in question so Isak has to shrug. He doesn't know what's happening either. "Where's the party at?"

"We're in here," Even says and Isak pulls his legs back to himself, to make room for them for when they, presumably, will join. 

"Okay," Mikael says. "Let's go, then."

A moment later they step inside the room. Eskild is the first to speak.

"Oh, hey," he says, getting off his couch and walking up to them, placing a hand on Mikael's shoulder and reaching out with the other one to shake his hand. "I've never met any of Even's friends before. You are?"

"Mikael," Mikael says, and Isak catches Even's eye, relieved when Even smiles back and shrugs in an overbearing way, like they're in on the humouring of Eskild together. 

"Mikael," Eskild repeats, and Even keeps smiling. "Nice name."

"Thanks," Mikael says. "Uh..."

"Hey," Isak says, to save him, and nods back when Mikael glances at him and smiles. "Ignore him. Come on in."

"You could at least be nice to me in front of new company," Eskild says, and this time Even chuckles, so Isak smiles, too, and shrugs at Eskild when Eskild sends him a look. Eskild scoffs. "Boys."

"Hm," Isak says, still smiling.

When they all come back to the couches, then, it's Eskild who arrives first and, to Isak's surprise, he brings his stuff over to Isak's couch and sits down there instead. Of course it means that Mikael and Even will get to sit together, and even though Isak misses having Even next to him he still thinks it was a nice thing of Eskild to do, so he finds his eyes, and gives him a smile.

In the corner of the room the Christmas tree is lit with fairy lights, the baubles on it reflecting it back to them, and outside the world is cold but in here it’s warm. Eskild has turned on the TV to some program about a Christmas tree farm and today Isak was the one to make them all hot chocolate, because Even has done that so much but didn't look like he was going to do it tonight so Isak thought he might do it for him, instead.

"Were you working?" Mikael asks, and Even nods.

"Yeah," he says. Mikael shakes his head and, tilting his back at him, Even sighs, rolling his eyes just a little. "Babysitter."

"You hired me," Mikael says, and then: "Now, do any of you have a deck of cards, or what?"

So, that's what happens, then. Eskild gets off the couch, yet again, to bring them the cards, and then Mikael is the one to divide them out between them, moving to the floor in front of the coffee table to get in a better position, until the rest of them join him, too. Even only joins for the first round, but Isak doesn't miss how, slowly, he starts laughing more again, and he doesn't miss why Even says that him and Mikael are best friends.

He doesn't miss it either how, as time goes on, Even's eyes begin dropping close or how, little by litte, it looks like he's dropping off to sleep until, suddenly, he's already there.

Not long after Eskild goes to have a shower, and Isak and Mikael are alone.

"Isak?" Mikael says, halfway through a game that they play just the two of them, and Isak looks up at him until he, tilting his head just a little, smiles. "Don't freak out, okay?"

"About...?" Isak says, nodding to Even. "Him?" Mikael nods. "I'm not. I know he's bipolar."

"Okay," Mikael says, shrugging. "I just mean, it can feel a bit sudden sometimes. He's so happy and giving and then, turns out..."

Turns out he's actually having a bit of a hard time.

"Yeah," Isak says, and Mikael nods at him, smiling.

"You know," he says. "He's my best friend." Isak smiles, too. "I've seen him through a lot of stuff."

"Hm."

Mikael looks at him. Looks at him like he's assessing him, and then shrugs again, just a little.

"He has a good time around you," he says, and Isak didn't expect that at all. Isak didn't expect to have this talk, like it's _the_ talk, like Mikael is putting trust in him, now, like that is what this is. "He shares the surface level of stuff with a lot of people, once he's been able to make it funny, but it's not everyone he lets in while it's still raw. Just..." Mikael keeps looking at him. "Remember that."

Isak swallows. Swallows because this feels more significant that what he was expecting for a Tuesday night, swallows because Mikael says it like he knows something Isak doesn't.

"Okay," he says, and Mikael, nodding at him, smiles.

"Okay."

After he's left, then, Isak goes back into the living room where Even is still sleeping and sits down on the end of his couch. And after it turns a little after ten he's the one to wake Even up and send him back into bed.

When Isak gets into his own, then, he lies under his duvet, pulled up to his chin, staring out of his window and into the night, as he thinks. 

It's a long while before he closes his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who loves mikael as much as i do? okay. good to know
> 
> as always, please talk to me in the comments, i love it when you do
> 
> also guess which country got their first snow today? you bet ya it was the dk


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello, we're over halfway now, would you look at that. hope you've had a good wednesday. enjoy!

**Wednesday, December 13th**

_Even Bech Næsheim_

**Isak Valtersen**  
did you fall asleep fine last night?

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
yeah  
i must have been very tired  
it was nice to fall asleep to you guys playing though

 **Isak Valtersen**  
that's good  
are you at work today?

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
you have my schedule memorised?

 **Isak Valtsersen**  
shush  
it’s not hard to remember

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
you’re very nice to me

 **Isak Valtersen**  
well  
you’re easy to be nice to

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
that's a very sweet thing to say

 **Isak Valtersen**  
shut up  <3  
you're at work?  


**Even Bech Næsheim**  
<3  
yeah, i am

 **Isak Valtersen**  
can i come?  
when are you off?

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
six thirty  
shop closes at six  
and sure, you can come  


**Isak Valtersen**  
i’ll be there at four, then

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
okay  
see you, then

 **Isak Valtersen**  
see you

*

When the clock strikes four Isak is, just like he promised, standing outside of Even’s KB. It’s cold out here already, and dark, but the light of the shop spills out onto the snow left over from yesterday, welcoming and warm. Isak pushes the door open.

Even is behind the counter when he makes it inside. When he sees Isak, he smiles.

“Hey,” Isak says, walking up to the counter.

“Hey.”

“Still tired?”

“Little bit.”

“Hm,” Isak says, giving Even a once-over and trying to contain his smile. It’s just that he’s wearing a Christmas-green apron and that, only a few days ago, Isak was about to go wild over how hot he was and that, now, this is one of the most amusing things he’s seen all day. “You look _great_ though.”

“Shut it,” Even says, and Isak laughs. Even rolls his eyes, but smiles along, too. “So, you want anything, or?”

“I don’t know,” Isak says. “What comes recommended?”

“The cocoa is good,” Even says. “Maybe I can sneak you a cookie on the house to have it with.”

“Oh?” Isak says. “See, I was wondering when the benefits of being nice to you would start showing up.”

“See, I can’t flip you off,” Even says, and Isak laughs, again. “Because this is where I work. But you should know that I feel the urge to.” 

Isak snorts. “Hm.”

“So? Cocoa?”

“Yes, please,” Isak says, and Even nods.

“Coming up."

As it’s being prepared, Isak moves to the reception area of the counter to wait and, then, when he’s gotten his things, finds an empty couch in the corner of the shop where he settles down with his book.

Even was right, of course: the cocoa is great, and so is the cookie, and the shop has Christmas music playing over the speakers, _I’ll be home for Christmas,_ and Isak doesn’t even mind it today.

He stays until Even is off.

He's been worried about him, is the thing. He's been thinking about him. And maybe Even isn't tired, but he is, because he stayed up for hours and hours last night, unable to shut his brain up. 

It's just that he's been thinking about him. It's just that he can't quite stop.

*

It's Star Wars day, of course, and if Isak thought Jonas was a movie nerd, then Even's been blowing him away. Of course you don't have to be as intense as they are to want to go to this, so Isak is not surprised when, during the afternoon, the messages planning a trip to the theatre start rolling in.

It's not even him who adds Even to the chat. It's Jonas. 

After Even has closed the shop, then, they take the tram to the movie theatre where they meet the rest of them for the showing of the movie. They get popcorn, and sodas, and Even is still quiet and seems tired, too, now that the retail persona has worn off. 

When Jonas raises his brows at him, Isak shakes his head, just a miniscule bit. _Don’t comment on it._

It’s a good movie, or at least Isak thinks so. He doesn’t really see much of it, too occupied with thinking about Even, and feeling him, the back of his hand pressed against the back of Isak’s where they meet on the armrest.

When they get home, eventually, them and Jonas, Even is quick to slip away from them, going quietly into his room. Again, Jonas looks to him.

“Is he okay?” he asks, and Isak shrugs.

“Just having a couple of bad days, I think.”

“Hm.” Jonas follows Isak into his room, when Isak invites him in with a nod of his head before closing the door behind him. “Does he need us to do anything?”

“No, I don’t know,” Isak says. “I don’t think so.”

“Hm,” Jonas says, again. When Isak gets onto his bed, he joins him, lying down next to him so they’re both looking at the ceiling. “And you?”

Isak knew it was coming because he knows Jonas and because he knows he’s been quiet today, too.

“I’m okay,” he says. “I’m just worried about him, you know.”

“Yeah,” Jonas says. Pauses, then: “You became friends very quickly, the two of you.” 

It’s not that it’s a particularly revealing thing to say it’s just that, suddenly, Isak wants a little bit to cry. It's just that there's something in Isak's chest that feels close to lifting, now.

“You seem to really like him.”

“Yeah,” Isak says, because that, at least, cannot be denied. “I do.”

“Scary,” Jonas says, and Isak laughs, a little emotional, or at least enough so that Jonas gets this quietly comforting look on his face that he wears sometimes, with Isak or Eva or his little sister. The caring one. So Isak nods.

“Yeah," he says.

“But okay,” Jonas adds, and Isak exhales.

“Yeah.” Isak nods, again. “But okay.”

*

Once it’s ten, the time that Even would usually take the night dosage of his meds, Isak slips into the hallway and stands outside of his door, for a few seconds, before knocking. Then a few seconds more.

“Hm?” Even says then, from the other side of the door, and when Isak pushes the door open he’s in his bed, laptop open but arms under the covers, so Isak can tell that he’s watching something rather than working on it. “Oh, it’s you," Even says. "Hey.”

“Hi,” Isak says. “I, uh... I just wanted to see if I could bring you your meds?" Even looks at him. "And some food, maybe? Some fruit?”

When Even smiles it's a little small, like it's been for the most of the day, but it's there. That's something, at least, Isak thinks, and then:

“Yeah,” Even says, surprising Isak, who expected him to question it at first, like he’s done every time something like it has come up. Maybe he’s just too tired for that now. Maybe something’s changed. Isak doesn’t know. “That’d be nice.”

Isak does, then, getting him the pill-bottle, a glass of water, and a banana, bringing all of it to him where he’s still in bed, staring a bit blankly at the screen.

“Thanks,” he says to Isak, still, and untangles himself from his duvet to swallow down the meds and eat the fruit. After a moment’s hesitation, Isak joins him on the bed, just sitting. “Sorry I’m like this.”

“Don’t apologize,” Isak says. “You’re just having a bad day.”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be over soon.”

This time, Even's smile is a little more sincere. 

“Yeah.”

“So, anyway,” Isak says, getting halfway off the bed, meaning to get back to his own room before he overstays his welcome, but Even’s hand comes out to touch his wrist first.

“Isak,” he says. “Will you–" He swallows. Meets Isak's eye. "You can stay, if you’d like.”

Somehow, it breaks Isak's heart. Because he remembers, hasn't stopped remembering, in fact, what Even said the other day. About company. So, of course Isak will stay. If it was up to him, he wouldn't ever leave.

“Yeah?” he asks, still, just to make sure, and Even nods.

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” Isak nods, too. “I will, then.”

“Okay.”

Even is the one who scoots over on the mattress, then, making room for Isak to come in closer, and it’s Even, too, who folds his laptop together and puts it to the floor besides his bed and it’s Even who, in the end, lifts his duvet enough that Isak can scoot in under it. Reaching out for him, Isak bunches the t-shirt at his waist up in his hands, because they've done this before, so he assumes it's still okay now.

In the moonlight from the window, their eyes meet.

“I’m hard to care about,” Even says, and back in the beginning he seemed so carefree, so perfect, but now Isak knows that he's just as human as everyone else. 

Still:

Isak has to close his eyes, now, and Isak kind of wants to reach out and shake his shoulder and say, _don't you see how many people love you so much they would die for you, don't you see how wonderful you are to every person who crosses into your life, don't you see how easy you are to– to–_

He doesn't say it. He shakes his head instead.

“No,” he settles on, simply, finding Even's eyes and meeting them. “You’re not.”

He doesn't know if Even believes him, and for a long time Even doesn't say anything to tell him if he does, but then:

”Can I tell you another secret?” he asks. And Isak nods. 

”Yeah?”

Even breathes. ”I don’t,” he says, and keeps breathing. “I'm not sure I’m a very good person." And oh. Isak's heart sinks, just a little. "I try to be. I really, really want to be." Even looks at him. "But I don’t think I am.”

 _What are you saying?_ Isak thinks. 

“What are you talking about?”

Even just shrugs.

”Everyone," he says, "who’s ever cared for me, has ended up hurt.”

And right.

He's said something like this before. When they talked about love, that's what he said, _it hurts even more to be the cause of someone else's pain and I am, a lot,_ and Isak:

Isak doesn't actually know what to say to that. Isak is coming up short, now, because he doesn't actually know what would help, but he knows, at least, or is certain, in fact, that Even is wrong. He's certain. So in the end all he does is shake his head.

"I don't think that's up to you to decide," he says, and is surprised when it makes Even smile. Smile, in the moonlight from the window, looking like Isak said something that was right.

"Maybe not," he says, before he draws in a deep breath, and turns back to his back, looking at the ceiling.

So it’s Isak’s turn, then.

Acting much more daring than he’s been up until now, he reaches out to touch Even, gently, until Even turns back into his embrace and stays there, hiding his head in the crook of Isak's neck, for once, instead of the other way around. Dipping his chin, then, to inhale the smell of Even’s hair, Isak drops a kiss onto it. Even’s whole body moves with it when he exhales. 

They stay like that until Even's breaths even out and Isak's doesn't, but Isak stays after that, too, holding him, still. Stays with him the entire night, because that's how long he wants to stay. And keeps staying, then. 

A little bit after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've really never meant a slow burn tag as much as i mean it for this apparently
> 
> pls let me know what you're thinking. i always appreciate it
> 
> also don't actually tell me what happens in the new star wars, it's out in both norway and denmark today but i haven't watched it yet so no spoilers


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy thursday aka happy passe på meg dag, where we kinda got our first taste at the pov of even, the love of my life
> 
> hope you enjoy this!

**Thursday, December 14th**

Thursday, everything is different again.

When Isak wakes up it’s still dark outside, and freezing in the room, enough so that the tip of his nose is cold. Around him, the place is shrouded in darkness, too, and the whole flat is silent in that early-morning way it is on early Tuesdays, as well, when Isak is up alone and feeling like the world is telling him to go back to bed.

Today he can. Or, actually, he can stay in it. So, when the duvet rustles with Even’s movements, all he does is hum.

“Oh,” Even mumbles, turning back to face him so Isak can feel his breath on his skin. “Hi.”

“Hm,” Isak says, tired enough that his heart forgets to skip a beat about him being in Even's bed. “What time is it?”

“A quarter to seven," Even says. "Just turned my alarm off.”

“You’re staying?”

“Yeah,” Even confirms and, again, the duvet rustles and Isak opens his eyes to see him pulling it up to his chin as he burrows his nose into his pillow, too. His eyes are closed, and Isak feels a little bit privileged to see him like this, on his way back to sleep, so he scoots in closer until their bodies are touching. After a moment Even shifts again, this time to sneak an arm around him.

So maybe Isak's heart skips a beat, now.

God, he likes this so much. And it's freaking him out a little bit, making all of these butterflies errupt in his stomach, but it's also–

It's also just really nice. It's also so comfortable.

So he closes his eyes. And in the end he falls back asleep like that, with Even's arm around him.

*

_Even Bech Næsheim_

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
so tell me, christmas-hater, do you still do christmas presents?  
because i’m getting mine today and i thought you might like to hit the town with me?  
i can bribe you with cocoa and pancake puffs at the christmas market?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
i’ll take the bribe  
but only if you pay

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
you’re so generous at accepting invitations  
see you later

 **Isak Valtersen**  
see you later christmas-boy

*

They spend the whole evening together.

First, Even picks him up from uni at three, when he’s let out of his last lecture of the day. It’s snowing, again, and Even seems happier, today, throwing his hands out like he did the first time it snowed, too, and nodding to the sky in glee.

It makes Isak happy, too.

“You know,” he says, bending down to the snow to pile some of it up in his hands, forming it into a ball. “You really need to learn a thing or two about what this favourite weather of yours can do to you.”

“Oh?” Even says, giggling, and holds his hands up to shield himself when Isak makes as if to throw the ball at him, but Isak doesn’t throw it, not until he’s made Even think he will a couple of times, making Even giggle even more every time he doesn’t. “Stop it.”

When it hits, it does so right at Even’s shoulder.

“Ew,” Even says, but he's laughing, too, and it's the brightest sound, and Isak has _missed_ it, and Isak– “Ugh, that almost went down my neck”

“It did not,” Isak says, but reaches out to dust the remnants of it off Even’s coat anyway, before Even bends down to scoot some of it up into his own hands. “Wuss.”

“I’m a wuss?” Even asks, offended hand to his chest, now.

“Yeah.”

“ _I’m_ a wuss?”

“Yeah.”

Even’s snow-filled hand hits him right in the face.

“Oh, come on,” Isak says, spluttering and trying to dust the snow out of his mouth to the tune of Even’s laughter. “You were annoyed I _almost_ got it down your neck and then you get it all over my _face_? Cruel.”

Even just keeps laughing. “Your face,” he says.

“Fuck you.”

“Sorry.” Even keeps giggling. “Sorry.” Then presses his lips together, trying to contain it, even though Isak can still see it in his eyes. “Here, let me– It’s all over your scarf, too.”

“And whose fault is that?” Isak says, mock-annoyed, but presents his neck so Even will have easy access to dusting the snow off him, anyway. Even lifts his scarf and dusts the snow that actually did get onto his neck off, too, glove off, and then dries his own hand on his jeans. “Is it gone?”

“It’s gone.”

“Okay,” Isak says, dusting the excess snow off his gloves, too. “God, my face is freezing now, thanks for that.”

“Sorry,” Even says.

“Hm,” Isak says, looking at him. “You better fucking buy me something warm to drink now.”

Even laughs. And, really, Isak would do a lot of things just to hear that sound, so maybe even getting snow all over his face is okay.

It keeps snowing as they buy their presents.

They’re far enough into December now that there are Christmas lights and decorations strung up everywhere, taking over the Oslo streets and, okay: Isak can see why Even likes this so much. It’s beautiful, after all. A bit like an actual winter wonderland, actually, and when Even turns back to grin at him, Christmas lights reflected in his eyes and snow on his scarf and in his hair, Isak grins back. 

He’s beautiful, too. So what if Isak thinks that? It’s just true.

After they’ve gotten their presents Even does pull him to a market, just like he promised, and then he does buy the both of them some pancake puffs and some cocoa from a stall just like he promised, too.

They eat them at one of the tall tables, standing close together. 

"You know," Even says. "I used to make these with my grandma every Christmas."

"Really?" Isak asks.

"Yeah." Even nods. "Since I was a little kid."

"That's nice," Isak says, and can't help but imagine Even as a child, can't help but want to know every little thing from his past that he wants to give, can't help but want to know more, just like he's wanted to all of this time.

"Yeah," Even says, and he looks fond, like he's remembering it, and Isak is taken aback by it. How sad Even has been these last few days, how much he's carrying around on his shoulders, how persistently he soldiers on. How gently.

How much he should be loved. How little this is about Isak and Isak's fear at all.

When they’re almost done eating Even looks at him, at his lips, and points to his own.

“You’ve got some–” he says but, then, shifts a little on his feet before he reaches out to brush it off himself.

“Powdered sugar,” he explains, but he’s looking at Isak’s lips and letting his thumb stay on the bottom one. When he glances back to Isak’s eyes, Isak glances down at his lips, too. Then back up.

His heart is beating a little more quickly, now. The both of them smile.

“Thanks,” he says, and it comes out hoarse, as Even takes his hand back and looks down at the table in front of him, and Isak pretend to wipe the rest of it off his lips to have an excuse to hide his smile in the palm of his hand.

“Hm,” Even hums.

Once they’re waiting for the tram home Isak takes his own hands out and blows on them, tripping on his feet, too, as he tries to warm them back up. When Even sees he reaches out his own hands, as if in offering, and when Isak nods he takes Isak’s between his own and rubs them back and forth, causing friction between their palms.

After, he dips his head down to blow at them, cocooned in his own grasp, and Isak watches. Just watches.

So by God, maybe this is where he gives up on resisting.

When he was younger he was quick to warm to people, actually. When he was younger he threw himself into his feelings without trying to avoid them, and it’s everything that came after that stopped that, but now:

He doesn’t know if getting swept away is actually a choice, but it’s one he’s going to make, now. Maybe he’d be smart to keep on trying to stop it, because Eskild is right, this could go terribly wrong, but Even is quicksand and Even looks good laughing and Even deserves all of the love in the world and Isak likes it, actually, this feeling. 

He likes it.

So who cares what could happen? Who cares because if he matters to Even, then he's going to let himself care for him, and Even has made him– 

God. 

Even has made him want to feel all of this, all of it, even the parts that ache just a little bit, because it makes him feel _alive_ , and why shouldn't you let yourself be that? Even has made him want to try, and it's not that he's not terrified, but when it comes down to it there are two people in this, him and Even, and Isak wants so much to care for him that it overshadows all of the rest of it.

So maybe this is where he allows himself to jump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asdfghjkl
> 
> this gives me a heart-attack to read and i'm the one who wrote it
> 
> you know what to do, give me all of your thoughts pls


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sick and i'm transcribing interviews for my research project and i'm not having a good friday night, but i hope you are!!

**Friday, December 15th**

Friday afternoon, when he and Sana are let out of their lecture, Isak turns to her, grinning, and raises his hands in the air for two high-fives.

“Freedom,” he says when she, hesitantly, hits the palms of his hands with her own.

“Mm," she says, grimacing just a little. "Not quite."

“Amost quite,” he says, and she raises her brows at him, sceptically, so he raises his own back. “Close enough.”

He’s so ready to be on goddamn holiday now. So what if he doesn’t care much for Christmas at all? He can’t wait to have some blessed time off school, either way. Until the exams, of course, but it’s fine. It’s a taste of being free, even if it’s just a taste.

Outside, they find Even, standing next to Mikael who he’s chatting to and, when Isak sees him, he raises his hands just the same as he did with Sana. Unlike Sana, Even grins, too, and hits him back immediately.

“Freedom,” he says.

“Well,” Isak says, turning to Sana to catch her eye and wink. “Not quite.”

*

It's the party tonight.

In the middle of all of this, Isak had almost forgotten. In the middle of all of this, actually, Isak feels like Monday, when they'd planned it, is ages away now. So far away he feels like a completely different person.

It's not the first time that has happened. Even just this semester, back at the start, it took less than a week before he felt like he'd been at uni his whole life. But still. 

It's been a little intense.

On their way home from uni, then, him, Mikael and Even go to buy beers and then him and Even drink them, a little later, sitting in the kitchen with Jonas, too. And Even:

Even, of course, has dressed up. 

He's Jude Law. _From the movie._ And alright: He may or may not look so hot it's a little distracting. 

It's the glasses, really, fake and owned by Even already which, for some reason, Isak can't stop thinking about. 

Well.

It's not just the glasses. It's the button-up shirt, too, and the sweater pulled over it, and maybe Eskild's been right when he's teased Isak about liking hipster boys, but there's something so tantalising about knowing that behind that ugly goddamn sweater is exactly the kind of shirt that Isak loves to see boys wear because he loves to take it off.

If he told him, tonight, maybe he could.

God. And he's not even drunk yet.

That is until, not long after, he is.

It's a bit of a blur, really. He's tipsy by the time they leave, clinging onto the crook of Even's elbow in a way that may or may not be embarrassing, and he gets even tipsier when they arrive, so much so, in fact, that he allows Even to pull him out onto the dancefloor for a moment and, then, allows himself to stand in the corner, following Even around the room with his eyes as he sips on another beer, leaning a little against the wall.

In the end, he ends up getting so tipsy he has to be taken home.

It's Even who does it, because of course it is. Even is kind, and Even is pretty, and it’s the kind of thing Even would do for someone, and Isak feels a little bit bad about it, stumbling along next to him on the darkened snow-filled streets. Even was looking forward to it and everything, and now–

Now he probably wouldn’t be here, if it wasn’t somewhere he wanted to be. Isak doesn’t know. Isak is confused, actually, because Even is so kind to him, but Even is kind to everyone, and Isak can’t figure out if he’s different. Can figure out how much the fact that Even lets him hold onto the crook of his elbow once again, to steady himself as they trot along home, actually means.

“Sorry,” he says, still a little tipsily, instead of saying any of that.

“Hm?” Even says.

“That you have to–” Isak gestures to himself. “Deal with all of this.”

“Oh,” Even says, and smiles, and it's the tipsiness that makes Isak allow himself to stare at it. “Don’t worry about it. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Mm-hm?”

“I was kind of hoping to end the night early anyway.”

Isak smiles, and God. He’s so, Even is so, so _lovely_ , and Isak likes him, and tonight he feels brave enough to lean in closer, so close, until they’re almost one person, walking along on the almost deserted streets.

“Oh, yeah?” he says.

“Mm-hm.”

At the party, earlier, there’d been talks about hooking up, that Magnus had led, and Isak doesn’t remember a lot of it now, except that Even had shaken his head when Mahdi asked him if he was looking for anyone and, then, looked back to Isak with a gentle smile, and maybe it’s just that he and Isak talked about this, maybe that’s all it meant, but–

Isak's been circling close all night, and he knows, somewhere in the back of his mind he knows, that he’s been dangerously close, the whole time, to laying all of his cards on the table. It’s just that Even doesn’t seem to mind at all, and Isak:

Isak just wants to know what that _means_.

Sana saw him looking, at the party, too, saw him when he was standing in the corner with his beer and watching as Even and Mutta danced.

“You know,” she said, joining him with her water bottle and her smirk. “He’s a pretty honest person.” And Isak wanted to ask who, to pretend he didn’t already know, but she’s too clever for that, has always looked through him too much for him to get away with that, so he didn’t. He just shrugged. “You could just tell him.”

“Yeah, right,” Isak said. “Easy for you to say.”

But maybe she was right.

“The stars are out tonight,” Even says, now, and Isak looks at him, wants to say something about how nice it is to be under them with him, but settles for nodding, instead.

"They are," he says, and Even keeps looking at them.

“They’re pretty."

“Mm.” 

They are. And it’s a wonderful night, really, the kind where there’s snow left on the ground, dusted all over the asphalt, where the sharpness of the cold bites in your cheek but makes you feel alive, too, makes you feel happy, and maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s that Isak is tipsy, but he wants to share, so: 

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Mm-hm?”

“I kind of believe in multiple universes.”

“Really?” Even says, grinning at him in the most endearing way. “I didn’t expect that.”

“No, well." Isak shrugs. "I guess I just like the idea that, in another universe, everything could be completely different. Or everything could be almost exactly the same, with just a little thing changed.”

“Oh,” Even says. “Is this the–”

“Parental neglect coming into play? Yeah, it is.”

Even smiles, a little. And it’s true what Isak says, it has been coming into play, periodically, like that. Not just with the universes, with everything, and actually:

Actually, fuck that. Fuck letting it control everything, fuck abiding to it like it gets to control every little bit of his life, fuck it all.

“Are you ever going to tell me more about that?” Even asks and, for the first time in a long time, Isak thinks he is, so:

“Yeah,” he says. “Just not right now.”

Even snorts, and Isak snorts, too, and it’s kind of nice, this. It is.

“So,” Even says. “How do they work, these universes? There’s one where everything looks like it does right now, but… there’s no snow?”

“Yeah,” Isak says, smiling. “That’s your nightmare world, you’d hate that.” Even rolls his eyes, stepping to the side to step into him, giving him a little shove.

“Alright,” he says. “And there’s one where… I’m not bipolar?”

Oh.

Isak looks at him, grimacing a little, and he didn’t expect this, although he probably should have.

“Maybe,” he says, because he used to use it like this, too, to imagine a world in which everything difficult about his own was gone. But: “As you can probably tell by now, it’s not like it was the healthiest coping mechanism.”

Even chuckles. “No,” he says. “That’s true.”

“Hm,” Isak says. “I mean, I never went to therapy, but I’m sure any therapist would have told me inventing a fantasy that’d allow me to be stuck in the third stage of grief wasn’t a good idea.”

“I went to therapy,” Even says. “And mine did.”

They laugh, together.

For a while they keep walking, Isak’s hand still in the crook of Even’s elbow, boots creaking over the snow. They head across a crossing even though the stop-light is red because there’s no one there, but then stop, later, on a side-street where there’s an even better view of the sky.

“Maybe,” Even says, looking at it before he looks back down to Isak. “Maybe there’s a universe where I’m not heartbroken when we meet.” 

And Isak thinks that if he’s ever going to see a green light, or an opening, this must be it, and Isak thinks that he could be so good at loving Even, if only Even would let him. He could. And he could just tell him. It's so soon, but he really could just tell him, and he really just wants to tell him. So:

“Maybe,” he says and, amassing all of the bravery he didn’t know he had until right now, and lets his right hand fall from the crook of Even’s elbow to his inner forearm to his wrist, and then: into Even’s own hand. Even looks at it, before he looks at him. “I, uh…” He swallows. “You looked good tonight.”

“Isak,” Even says, and Isak smiles, a little, because it sounds like he knows what Isak wants it to mean and at least it’s out now, then. It scares the shit out of him, of course, punches the breath out of his lungs because just yesterday he hadn’t even admitted this to himself, but he wants Even to know, wants him so know so badly, and at least now it’s out.

“Yeah?” he says.

“That doesn’t sound friendly.”

“No,” he says, and this is the first time he hasn’t really had it within him to joke. Instead he reaches out to take Even’s other hand, too, and swallows as he meets his eye. “Maybe I don’t just want you like a friend.”

Even assesses him, a little bit wide-eyed, which Isak almost smiles at, but doesn’t. He’s breathing a bit quicker, too, Isak can see it in the way his shoulders rise and fall, under his jacket, faster and deeper than they normally do.

Between them, their hands are intertwined, and Even is letting his stay there, in Isak’s grasp, as Isak’s thumbs rub circles into his palms. They both look at them, their hands, and Isak smiles a little, now, and when he glances up, quickly, he sees Even smiling a little, too, but then:

He takes his hands back.

“I don’t–” he starts, and Isak closes his eyes.

_Fuck._

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“No, that’s–” he tries, before Even can say anything else, God forbid, before Even can elaborate on all of the ways this is not what he wants. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“Sorry–”

“No, it’s– not your fault. Fuck.” He runs the hands, both of them, over his own face. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is not what he wanted to happen, and God. It hurts. It hurts and, yep, that’s exactly the kind of sting, the kind of sharp-edged knife-blade he’s been trying to avoid throwing himself into this whole time. “But okay.”

“I just–”

“Oh, please stop talking.”

“Okay.”

“I can’t take the elaboration.”

“Okay.” They look at each other. “Sorry.”

Isak doesn’t say anything. Because fucking hell, really, what is there to say?

When they keep walking they do it in silence, and this is the first time it hasn’t been comfortable.

And When Isak goes to sleep that night, he does it in his own bed.

Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m sorry!!!!! you’re all like “this feels so safe” and “i hope we get more fluff now” but instead of hating me, hear me out
> 
> 1) this was meant to feel a little bit like the rug being pulled out from under your feet, because that’s how it feels to isak and 2) this thing is kind of required for isak to develop in the way i want him to. you’ll see, i’ll avoid spelling it out too soon. but trust me. we’ll get there in the end


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy end of season 3 anniversary! that was sad, so it's sort of fitting that we're in the middle of something sad here as well, right? right? anyway, i promise i've got you. enjoy!

**Saturday, December 16th**

Saturday morning, Even is gone.

*

When Isak wakes up that morning, it’s with a dry mouth, a pounding head and an aching heart. His nose is cold from the room which is cold, too, and this is the first time in a while that’s made him in a bad mood. There’s condensation in the corner of his window.

He turns to the other side, pulling the duvet all the way up to his chin, and stays in bed.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to act now, is the thing. He doesn’t know how he’s going to look Even in the eye without wanting a little bit to break, or how he’s going to pretend this isn’t killing him. How he’s going to joke like nothing’s happened, or how he’s going to stand watching Even looking all sad when he can’t.

Of fucking course this is what would happen. Of fucking course this is what would happen, because Isak is a fucking idiot, apparently, and Isak is so lost and so messed up that he can't recognise friendship when it’s there, looking for love in it instead.

Begging for it to be love, instead.

Maybe he was more right when he was determined not to fall than he was when he did.

Either way, this fucking _sucks._

Eventually he has to get up, probably, so, either way: Eventually he does. As soon as he opens his door he hears voices in the kitchen, and pauses for a while until he’s gathered that it’s only Jonas and Eskild who are talking. The coast might be clear. Either way, he goes.

The coast _is_ clear. It’s only Jonas and Eskild who are in there, sitting around the kitchen table eating cereal.

“Hello, sleepy-head,” Eskild says, like Isak's whole stomach hasn't just been punched out of him. “I hear something about you having a bit too much to drink yesterday. How many of your life-choices are you regretting on this fine Saturday morning?”

“Oh,” Isak says, coming over to sit down around the table with them. “Most of them.”

“That bad?”

“There’s coke in the fridge,” Jonas says.

“Where’s Even?”

It’s the only thing he’s thinking about. He might as well ask.

“He went to a friend's house this morning,” Eskild says. “I met him in the bathroom.”

“Oh.”

“I thought he’d have told you?”

Yeah. It’s the kind of thing Isak would have thought, too, just last night.

“No, I, uh...” he says, and doesn’t go on. Jonas, who’s been eating his cereal up until now, leaves his spoon in his bowl and narrows his eyes in that worried way of his that Isak knows very well but hasn’t seen in a while.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Isak sighs. “I,” he says, and goes on, this time, because he might as well just say it. They’ll find out anyway. “I think I got rejected last night.”

Jonas raises his brows.

“Wait, hold on, who were you–” His eyes widen a bit. “By _Even_?”

“Yeah”

“But he– I mean–” Jonas frowns at him, and Isak wishes he could say something to make him stop looking so confused, like maybe confess that it was just a joke, but it’s not, so: he just looks back instead. Jonas’s expression grows sober. “Fuck. Shit, Is. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Are you okay?” Eskild asks.

“I–” Isak says. Sighs. “Can we not talk about it? I just thought you should know, but…”

“Do you want some breakfast?” Jonas asks. “We could–”

“No, it’s–” Isak shakes his head. “It’s fine, sorry, I’m just gonna–“ The chair screeches across the floor when he stands up. “I’m gonna go back to my room.”

“Are you sure? We could–”

“No, I’m sure.”

“Okay, but–”

Isak leaves the room before he can hear what Jonas is going to say.

He just can’t talk about it yet. He just can’t.

*

So, he’d forgotten how sharp fresh pain feels.

With his dad, it felt like this. With Jonas, he was pining the whole time, and it’s not that that wasn’t painful, too, but he always knew it wasn’t going to happen. He got used to it. But this: fucking hell, this:

He realises now that, despite everything he did to avoid it, he was gone long before he even started considering trying to stop it. Realises now that, despite everything, he’d begun to imagine all kinds of futures for them, all kinds of scenarios in which the two of them could be together, and the reason why it hurts so much is that, for the first time–

For the first time, he actually believed in them.

Fuck.

There's a reason why he's always guarded his heart. It's that it's really fucking easy to break.

*

When he gets back to his room, he crawls back under his covers and stays there, looking blankly ahead of him, to the bookshelf by his door. After twenty minutes or so, someone knocks on his door.

When Isak hums to them, and the door opens, it’s Eskild who’s standing there, leaning against his doorframe. Solemn look on his face.

“Don’t say _I told you so_ ,” Isak says. Eskild just shakes his head.

“Isak,” he says. “I would never.” He catches Isak’s eye, despite Isak’s attempt not to let him. “You can’t be blamed for feeling things.”

“Hm,” Isak says, and looks away from him again. After a moment, the floorboards creak as Eskild comes into the room. He settles on the end of Isak’s bed. Cross-legged. “What are you doing?”

“It’ll pass,” Eskild says. “I know it really sucks right now. But it will pass.”

“Hm.” Isak shrugs, keeps looking away, and doesn't really want to talk about it. “It was stupid.”

“No,” Eskild says. “Isak." His hand comes out to rest on Isak's shoulder, for a long time, until Isak glances up to meet his eye. "It wasn’t stupid. It was brave.” He tilts his head when he smiles. “Daring to feel for someone, and daring to tell them? That’s one of the bravest things you can do.”

Isak shrugs. He doesn’t feel brave right now. He feels like he’d just like this part of it to be over.

“It hurts,” he says.

“Yeah,” Eskild says. “I’m afraid that’s life, though, baby Jesus.”

Isak looks at his hands and is surprised that, somehow, this is the first time he’s really, really wanted to cry about it. 

“Anyway,” Eskild says, squeezing his shoulder, now, before he takes it back to himself. “You’ll find someone else. This wasn’t your last shot at anything.”

“I don’t want someone else,” Isak says, and that makes him want to cry, too.

 _God_.

He doesn’t want someone else, he really doesn’t. He wants _Even_ , and the way he looks when he laughs, and the way he’s kind, to everyone, and the way he sometimes seems like he just needs someone to give him a long, good hug, and the way he feels, in Isak’s arms, and the way he smells.

Fuck.

He just wants Even. And he really thought he’d get him, too.

“That’ll pass, too,” Eskild says, and maybe he’s right, but Isak doesn’t want it to. He doesn’t want to stop wanting him, he just wants him. He just–

He sniffs, as a tear escapes from his bottom eyelashes, and he dries it off his cheek with his fingertips, more careful than he wants to be, because he’s always been like that with the things that Even’s made, and Eskild says nothing, letting the both of them pretend that he didn’t see it.

He’s just so goddamn screwed.

“Anyway,” Eskild says, again, and shifts in his seat. “Don’t you want to come into the living room with us? We’ll play a game of cards to distract you? Or watch a movie? One that’s got nothing to do with Christmas?”

Isak smiles, just a little. And then, after a bit of hesitation, he nods.

He doesn’t say much for the rest of the day, but he stays, with the rest of them, in the room where the tree stands, in the corner, beautiful and shining, like everything in the world hasn’t changed.

It was Christmas when his dad left, too, and a tree was sitting in the corner of the room back then as well, and he’s not sad when he realises that, but angry. Angry, because it’s ruined so fucking much of his life, and he’s tired of it. He’s tired of giving it this kind of power.

This could so so easily be a a set-back. This could so easily see him revert back to old habits, back to shutting everything down, and he wouldn’t even have to lift a finger, because it would do it all on its own. 

But he wants to stop living like that. He's wanted to stop living like that for a while, really. And maybe: Maybe now he’s pissed enough to manage.

It can’t be a set-back if he’s not going to let it.

Before he goes to bed, he calls his mum to ask if he can come over the next day. Before he goes to sleep he eats his Advent calendar chocolate from the day.

He might as well.

There’s no reason for him to deny his feelings anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no even today, but i'm having a great time with all of this nonetheless. i hope you're still enjoying it, too. tell me what you're thinking in the comments?
> 
> also guess who's still fucking ill for the third time this semester? the moral of uni is that isolation is the only way to be in good health


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo, happy sunday! there's only a week left now. how did time manage to pass so quickly? who knows. anyway, hope you enjoy this!

**Sunday, December 17th**

This is the first time in a long time that he's been home. 

Well. Maybe home isn't the right word. Or maybe home _is_ the right word, really. It's hard to know, because it would be nice if all of this was clear-cut and easy, if he could figure out how he's feeling about it and stick with that, but he can't. Or he hasn't.

He's out, today, his dad. Isak asked his mum to make sure of it, and it's been weird, actually, that he's been back now, and sometimes Isak thinks that maybe it's hopeful, in a way. Other times he thinks it's horrible, that it's a sign that no matter how well she's doing his mum isn't quite well, not yet, because if she was she'd be able to see that she deserves better than him. 

Other times he just misses him. 

When he was out with Even buying Christmas presents he didn't buy anything for him. But he considered it.

So it's back and forth, really. It's just back and forth.

Once he's been invited inside, they settle down in the kitchen with tea and biscuits, after he’s pulled off his boots in the hallway. On the way there, he’s surprised to see that there’s a little Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, just as he was surprised to see the holly hanging on the front door; the nativity scene set-up in the corner.

It would seem the rest of them have moved on faster than he did.

He's looking at the nativity scene on the dresser by the kitchen as they sit, and he hardly ever shares here, either, but maybe, in a way, he should, so:

"You know," he says. "Eskild calls be baby Jesus, all of the time."

He glances back to his mum, and she follows his gaze to the nativity scene before she looks back to him. Smiling. And maybe he should share more, because she always looks like this. Always looks as happy as this.

"He's a smart boy," she says, and Isak raises his brows at her. "He's right. You're a saviour to me, anyway." 

Isak sighs, just a little, because it's such a mum thing to say, such a her thing to say, but smiles, too, because for a long time he didn't think he could ever get to a place where fond exasperation was something he could feel about any of this. 

"Oh, stop sounding like this is the hardest thing you've ever had to do," she says, and he snorts. "It's true. Ever since you were a little thing in here." She taps her stomach a few times. "You're the one who made me certain that God had to exist."

"Oh?" Isak says, and he didn't think that they would ever get to a place where he could tease her like this, either, where he wasn't scared of her, or taking care of her, or scared of her judgement or the judgement of God. "I'm sure He'd be delighted to hear that."

"Okay, smart one." They both smile. And then, after a pause, in which she grows a little more sombre, she reaches out to card a hand through his hair. "Might have been a bit too much responsibility to but on the shoulders of a sixteen year-old boy, though, eh?"

She talks about it sometimes, but it's not often he really lets her. Well. He doesn't come here often, so they don't have a lot of time to talk about it in, either, but he's seen it happen. Seen her get better, a little bit worse and then better again, and seen her, as time's passed, beginning to apologize, like she does, now, too. Like she's trying to, with this.

"Mum," he says, because if he hates anyone for any of the things that happened, it's not her. "We've talked about this. It's okay." 

She just shrugs. "Alright," she says. "I just wish I could help you more with all of your troubles. But maybe you're too old for that, now."

"Hm," Isak says, as he shrugs, now.

"Or maybe God could help you?"

"Mum." He looks at her, and she looks back, and he resists the urge to roll his eyes, but only because she's his mother. "Can't you do your missionary work on someone else?"

"I'm just saying–" He sighs. "Okay." She smiles at him, and he sees how it could be funny, a bit like they're doing a play, maybe, rehashing the same old topics they return to every time. "Okay. I'm just saying that it's bad for your posture to be carrying all of this weight."

"Is that a verse?"

She chuckles, and he does, too. 

"No. Okay. Actually, I, uh..."

So maybe he's going to keep the sharing up, because maybe he wants to. Maybe he wants to because he loves her, because she accepted him immediately when he came out, two years ago, because he's never been mad at her, actually, he's just been sad that he couldn't help her and was left with the responsibility anyway, but now: Now that they don't have to live together anymore, now that he's not her caretaker anymore, now maybe he could treat her like a parent instead. So:

"Someone kind of has," he says. "Helped me, I mean."

"Oh?" It's obvious that she's excited, but she pretends she's not, and Isak smiles at that. At the fact that it's happening and the fact that he can tell. "A boy?"

"Mm." She grins. "Don't look like that, though, it didn't..." He swallows. "Didn't work out." Her face falls a little. "But... I don't know."

He shrugs and, again, she smiles a little bit. Reaches out to touch his shoulder.

"But it mattered anyway?"

He breathes. Closes his eyes a little, because that's painful to think about, hurts something right below his last rib, but it's true, too. 

"Yeah," he says, and shrugs, as she keeps rubbing his shoulder. And then, because it's all about him, anyway, Isak has to ask: "What, uh... What does God say about me not forgiving Dad, yet?"

"Oh," she says, still touching his shoulder, although he suspects it must be difficult for her to be back together with him when Isak doesn't really want to talk to him at all. "You know the Bible preaches forgiveness because it's relief." She looks at him. "But what do you say?"

And that's the thing. He doesn't actually know. He misses him, or he wants to forget everything and come back, right now, to hug him and forget about everything, or he thinks he's the worst person to ever exist. Or he's tired of it. Or he just really wants to move on. So:

"I don't know," he says.

"No?" He shakes his head. "Hm." And then: "Tell you what," she says, and he looks at her. "You don't need to know right now. But maybe you could come home for Christmas?" Oh. "Just to try. And if you don't like it, we don't do it again."

He hasn't been home for Christmas since the Christmas where his dad walked out. But maybe: 

Maybe he wants to, now. To give it a try. So:

"Okay," he says, and the way she smiles makes him sure he won't actually regret it, even if he turns out to hate it. "We could try."

She smiles.

"Okay," she says. "We'll try."

Before he says goodbye to her, later that evening, he reaches out to pull her into a hug, standing by the front-door with his boots and jacket on, and for once the both of them stay in it for a while. 

"Mamma?" he asks, when they pull apart.

"Yeah?"

"How much of how good you've been today has been you reducing the severity for my sake?"

She smiles. Reaches out to hold his cheek with a palm.

"I am doing better," she says. "We're not lying to you."

"Okay."

"But there was a guy with a very pleasant voice telling me that you had a recording device in the hood of your jacket for at least thirty minutes."

He smiles, too.

"Okay," he says. And she pats his cheek, before she takes her hand back.

"You know," she says. "You worry more than it's your job to do."

"Mm," he says. "Maybe."

"But–" And now she's looking at him with a smile on her face. "You _could_ visit a bit more."

He snorts.

"Alright," he says, and decidedly doesn't roll his eyes here, either. "Maybe I will."

"Okay," she says. "Maybe you will."

*

When he comes home that evening, the rest of the boys are there, too. He finds them in the living room, sitting around the tv where a game of FIFA is on, and when they hear him they all turn to him. For a moment there's silence. And then: 

They all get up to give him a hug.

It must have been Jonas's idea.

"So," Magnus says later, as they're all sitting around the couches, lit Christmas tree in the corner of the room and snow falling down in thick flakes outside. "Scale from zero to ten: how bad is it right now?"

Isak has brought his duvet with him into the room, and he's sitting under that, feeling miserable, sure. Miserable, sure, but not the most miserable he's ever felt and miserable, sure, but not numb. And there's something about that lack of numbness that he gets stuck on. Because it does suck. It absolutely does suck, still. But it's also a bit nice to just feel it. To just feel. So:

"Eight?" he says. And Magnus nods, approving. 

"Eight is not so bad," he says. And then: "Actually, can I tell you guys something?"

Everyone turns to look at him.

"Yeah?" Mahdi says. 

"Well." Magnus looks at his hands. Then back up again. "When Vilde and I split?" he asks, and Isak and the rest of the boys nod. "That was pretty much a ten, for me."

"Really?" Isak says, frowning a little. "You just... you said it wasn't that bad."

Magnus shrugs. "Yeah," he says. "I said that." 

He looks at them all, a little mellow. A little more mellow than Isak thinks they've ever seen. 

He thinks they all know what that means. 

"Oh," he says. "I'm sorry."

"Hm," Magnus says. "Well." And then: "Can I tell you another thing?"

"Yeah?" Jonas says, this time, and Magnus looks at his hands.

"I don't actually know if I'm over her yet."

Oh.

Isak honestly didn't know. He didn't know, and it makes him feel a little bad that apparently he wasn't paying enough attention to realise that he was hiding something. But. Well. 

Maybe he was hiding a few choice things, too.

"I mean," Magnus goes on. "It's not that I want her to get back together with me. You know? Like, if I want anything for her it's for her to find a nice girlfriend, now, who can love her as much as I did but, I... I don't know." He sighs. Looks at Isak. "You know, I said this because I wanted to be helpful, but now I'm not so sure it is."

"No, I get it," Jonas says, before Isak can say anything, and they all turn to look at him. "I didn't get over Eva the entire time we were broken up."

What?

"What?" Isak says, taken aback by all of the sharing that's going on that he knew nothing about. "You never said."

"No," Jonas says, turning back to him with one of those caring fucking smiles on his face, and maybe he's a better friend to Isak, sometimes, than Isak manages to be to him, or maybe Isak's just feeling a little guilty for not looking closely enough at him now that he's not crushing on him anymore. "Do you catch the theme?" 

And slowly, then, Isak smiles.

"Alright," he says. "Is this another rant on toxic masculinity?" But Jonas just chuckles on a single breath, shaking his head a little. 

"No," he says. "Just... You're not alone, you know? Everything sucks sometimes." Their eyes meet. "And we're all just trying our best to get by."

He's right, of course. 

He's right.

"Can I share something too?" Mahdi asks, after Isak has been smiling at Jonas for a while, and they all look back to him. 

"Yeah?" Magnus says.

"I, uh..." Mahdi breathes. Swallows a bit. "I think that I, uh... I think I like boys, too." Isak's eyes widen all over again. "I think that I might be pan."

And oh.

Goddammit.

It's his coming out. 

This time, then, it's him that they all hug, before Isak goes into the kitchen and gets them all beers to cheer on, and he's miserable, sure, but he's feeling all of this, too. So he's miserable. 

But maybe that's okay.

*

_Even Bech Næsheim_

**Isak Valtersen**  
i don't know if you're staying away because of me  
but if you are you should come home

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
maybe i am a little bit  
just wanted to give you space

 **Isak Valtersen**  
it's okay  
you can come back

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
okay  
i'll be home tomorrow then  


**Isak Valtersen**  
okay

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
and isak?  
if you'll let me, i'd quite like to talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lot's of things happening here. even is coming back and vilde is a lesbian and mahdi is pan and ~friendship~ but i wanted to leave a little note on isak's mum. she's schizophrenic in this like she is in a bunch of fics, and i think it's interesting to explore the effects on isak of having a parent who's almost unreachably ill and have done that before, but i also think it's important to write portrayals of people who have pretty serious mental illnesses and who still manage to function quite well, because treatment is possible for schizophrenia too, so that's what this is. also it's on purpose that isak's dad is taking up a lot of time without actually ever showing up in a scene because ~symbolism~
> 
> anyway. as always would love to hear what you think!! let me know in the comments
> 
> also thank you for all your wishes of good health. it hasn't helped yet but i appreciate it a bunch <3


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! it's a late one today not just to tease you but also because i uh... fell asleep. happy monday!!

**Monday, December 18th**

_Jonas Noah Vasquez_

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
yo  
even is home  
met him in the hallway just now  
just thought you should know

 **Isak Valtersen**  
thanks

 **Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
ofc  
how’s it going?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
i’m alive

 **Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
<3  
let me know if you need me to keep the coast clear

 **Isak Valtersen**  
i will  
thanks again  <3

 **Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
no worries

*

_Eskild Tryggvason_

**Eskild Tryggvason**  
morning baby jesus  
the boy who must not be named just came back  
i’ve already told jonas about my ideas for a new surveillance system we could start that would mean you would never have to see him again  
kidding  
but not really

 **Isak Valtersen**  
don’t lie to me  
you just want a reason to start a new google sheets project  
this is not about me at all

 **Eskild Tryggvason**  
caught red handed  
are you okay though?  
or do you need your guru to come give you a hug?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
i’m okay  
and not just because i don’t want you to hug me

 **Eskild Trggvason**  
rude  
i’m going to work now but i’ll be back at seven tonight if you change your mind

 **Isak Valtersen**  
ok  
thanks  <3

 **Eskild Tryggvason**  
<3

*

Despite both of their warnings, he goes to the kitchen that morning. Already as he’s walking down the hallway he can hear music coming from the room, but it’s not Christmassy this time. It almost makes him think it’s not Even but Jonas, instead.

It’s not.

Isak feels a little bit like the breath gets punched out of him.

Even is standing with his back to the doorway, over by the counter, cutting up some fruit, and he's nodding his head along to the music and Isak misses him much more than he thought he would; is overcome, actually, with a wave of it even though he's right there; is overcome so much that he can't quite breathe.

Not quite certain that he could gather enough breath to speak, or that he could say anything that wouldn't come out too hoarsely or too much like a plea, he raises his hand, quietly, and knocks on the doorframe instead. Even turns around.

"Oh," he says, and Isak wishes he wouldn't look so uncertain, but he does. "Hi."

He looks beautiful today, and it’s too late for Isak to backtrack anyway, so he lets himself notice it. He looks beautiful, just like Isak remembers him, with his hair falling in his face, not done up today, which Isak, at least, is still privy to see; with softness in his eyes, ocean-blue, that aches inside of Isak’s soul but that he can’t really get himself to look away from; with the way he smiles, now, slowly, like he’s actually happy to see him. Still. Even in the face of everything.

"Hi."

Even’s smile widens, just a little, but he doesn’t say anything. Isak doesn’t either. So there they are, the two of them, looking at each other, until Isak’s chest reaches a point of longing so strong he has to look away. 

“Um–”

Even's face falls, if only a little.

“Should I move?”

“No, it’s– I just need to go to… the cereal,” Isak says, waiting for Even to step aside so he can reach around him, and they’re back, now, to the awkwardness where they left off last time, and Isak hates it. Even moves. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” Even says.

“Hm.”

As Isak pours the cereal, silence settles all around them, thick and awkward and horrible, and Isak wishes that Even would say something just as much as he wishes that he wouldn’t.

“You just got up?” Even asks, in the end, and maybe silence was better, then.

“Yeah,” Isak says, settling down at the kitchen table now. “You know...”

He doesn’t elaborate. And when he feels Even looking at him, he doesn’t look back. 

It's horrible.

He eats.

“You know,” Even says, after a long, long stretch of silence. “I’ve never seen anyone looking sad while eating cereal before.”

And fuck.

 _Fuck_ , because Isak is so gone for him, likes him so much, likes being around him so much, has missed how good it feels to be together with him, had almost forgotten, and fuck. He smiles, into his bowl, because he can't not, and maybe it will pass one day, this urge to give him everything, even if it’s parts of himself, but it hasn’t yet. When he looks up, Even is smiling, too, with a tilted head, hesitant as if he feels the fragility of all of this, too.

“It seems like it should be contradictory,” he goes on. “What with all the sugar and all. I’m pretty certain you’re breaking some law of the universe right now.”

Isak’s smile is bigger now. He likes it just as much as he hates it.

“Yeah,” he says. “Well.” And then: “I’ve got boy trouble, so–”

Even laughs. And Isak smiles, watching it, like he’s always done, chuckling a little along with it, too. Weakly, but still. That’s how contagious it is.

“I’ve got some ice cream in the fridge, if–” Even says, and this time Isak's chuckle is brave enough to be loud. 

Even smiles at him, looking almost fond, almost like Isak suspects he looked just before, and it’s that dangerous, treacherous, delicate hope that makes him go back to being sober just before Even does, too.

“Sorry,” he says. Isak just shrugs, looking back into his bowl now instead of at him. “Isak–”

“Oh, let’s not talk about it.”

“But–”

“Even,” Isak says, sharp enough that, somehow, Even shuts up. They watch each other. “I meant my texts, it's okay. But I can't– I just don't want to talk about it. I know you said you wanted to talk, but I– Even–"

"Can't we just–?"

"No."

"Isak." Coming over to the kitchen table, now, Even sits down across from him, leaning in over it. "Please."

"No."

"Come on."

And right.

"Okay," Isak says, squaring his jaw, now, as he lifts his chin and to meet Even's gaze. "So you were wrong on Friday?"

Even's face shifts, just a little. And Isak: Isak doesn't fucking want to hear it if it's not that, can't stand the idea of having to listen to the explanation, doesn't think it's his job to listen to, actually, and the chair screeches across the floor as he gets up.

"Let's just not talk about it," he says. "Not before it's turned funny."

“Will you _listen_ , I don't mean–”

“I'll see you later.”

"Isak." Even catches his eye, something begging in them. "Come on. I like you."

 _As a friend,_ he doesn't say, but he mights as well have. Isak doesn't stop in his tracks, and doesn't turn to look at him.

"I have to go," he says, instead.

He leaves the cereal behind when he leaves.

*

_Jonas Noah Vasquez_

**Isak Valtersen**  
so that coast clear thing?

 **Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
yeah?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
can you get me some snacks?  
i’m in my room but even is in the kitchen

 **Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
on it

*

Five minutes or so later the door to Isak’s room creaks open as Jonas sneaks inside, a banana and a muesli bar in his hands. After he hands it to Isak, who takes it with a nod of thanks, he joins him on the bed, where he’s migrated back to.

“Thanks,” Isak says, again.

“Sure.” Isak breaks a piece of the bar off, and offers it to Jonas, who shakes his head, so Isak eats it himself. “Was it bad?”

Isak shrugs. “I mean,” he says. “I’ll get over it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Isak nods. “I did with you, didn’t I?”

Jonas snorts, raising his brows a little, and Isak is back to feeling miserable again, but he can still smile a little bit back.

“I guess,” Jonas says. “I’m not sure it’s the same thing.”

“No?”

“No.” Jonas shakes his head. “For one, I’m not as hot as Even.”

Isak snorts. It a little weak, but it's there.

“What a weird thing to say for a straight guy,” he says, still, and Jonas chuckles, too.

“I just have eyes,” he says.

“Hm,” Isak hums. “Sure.”

“Shut up.” They grin, together. “Although, if I was gay, I would have asked him into my room on the first day, if you know what I mean.”

They laugh. And it’s a bit nice, here, in the middle of all of the weight on his chest, all of the pain in his heart. It’s a welcome distraction.

Of course it doesn’t last long. Eventually, he's back to having to work to keep breathing. 

Jonas, in turn, is back to watching him.

“Did he–?” he starts. “Like, what did he say?”

“What do you mean?”

“On Friday?" Jonas says. "Did he say he wasn’t interested?”

“I mean...” Isak shrugs. “Not in so many words. But I didn’t misunderstand, okay?” he interrupts, when it looks like Jonas is going to speak. “It was perfectly clear. And, either way, it’s pretty hard to misunderstand something for the remaining twenty minutes of a walk home.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jonas says, and shrugs. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“No, I don’t know.” Jonas looks at him. “He just looks so sad, too, you know?”

“Well.” Did he? God, was Isak really that unable to look? “He was sad for a few days before Friday, too. Or tired, I don’t know. I wouldn’t read too much into that.”

“It didn’t look like this, though.”

“Wait,” Isak says, and he can't even pretend that his heart isn't sinking already, that he doesn't still care so much it aches in him. “Do you think he’s depressed?”

“No,” Jonas says. “Not like that.” 

Tilting his head, he smiles at Isak, and it looks a little solemn.

“You like him so much though, Is,” he goes on, and Isak figures it's going to be on his sleeve for a while, now, the care. “Maybe you should talk to him again?”

“And what?” Isak asks. “Beg him to change his mind? Contrary to popular belief, I’m not actually that pathetic.”

“No.” Jonas shakes his head. “Just to hear him out. Just to listen to him, maybe, for once.”

Oh.

"You've talked to him?"

"Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad."

They look at each other. Jonas is shrugging, a little, smiling, a little, and the fact that Even even talked to him has started Isak on the roll again, and now he's hoping. Fuck, this could burn, but he's hoping, and it might make him an idiot or a fool but if he had to pick anyone to be a fool for it'd be Even, anyway.

"I don't know anything, okay?" Jonas says. "Like, he didn't say much, he's not airing your business for all of us to see, he just answered my questions, but– Is. I don't want to give you false hope, I don't know what he wants, and I think he should just get his head out of his ass and come out and say it, but he can't if you're not going to let him. Right?"

And he's probably right. Fuck, Isak hopes that he's right.

He thinks about it the rest of the day.

Actually, he thinks about it the whole night, too, avoiding Even to do it and going out at around ten to wander around the Oslo streets like he did when he was younger and conflicted, too, and it just feels so hard to put himself out on the line again, to come in not knowing whether or not he'll be shut down. But–

But if he's going to do it at any point again, it should probably be here. 

_Remember that,_ Mikael had said, just last Tuesday, about how Even has a good time with him, and even if hope is treacherous right now then Isak is remembering, and even if hope is treacherous he's thinking that maybe Mikael knows Even well enough to know to prepare Isak for this. So:

_Even Bech Næsheim_

**Isak Valtersen**  
you better fucking not make me regret this  
but do you want to go outside for a smoke?  
we could talk  
and this time i'll actually listen

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
i do!  
now?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
yeah now  
i'm in the courtyard

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
i'll meet you there  
thank you  
<3

The heart.

Isak looks at it as he waits, in the snow, outside of their apartment building. Nervous, and a little bit cold. Looks at it until he looks up, and Even steps outside.

"Hi," he says, when he sees Isak, and he's lit by the moon, wearing a beanie and his big coat, and he's smiling. Smiling so warmly Isak almost turns warm, too, and looking so nervously uncertain that Isak’s chest bleeds with it again, the way he wants so badly to care for him. 

Well. Once more unto the breach, then.

"Hi."

"So." Even comes in closer, rubbing his palms together for a bit, as if to rub some warmth into them, and then: "Actually, before we start, can I hug you?"

Now Isak's smiling, too.

"Yeah," he says, something calm settling, for just a moment, and he barely has time to move before Even's arms are around him, warm and tight. 

He hugs him back.

The clock strikes midnight before they let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think it's important to like give them room to have emotions that are not on the same page for a bit which is what this is a part of but! we're getting there! are we excited about that? please tell me in the comments
> 
> also yesterday night or this early morning i listened to hozier's version of do i wanna know and was transformed so you know. monday moods


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, happy tuesday! are y'all ready for the next chapter in the “will em keep teasing all of her readers or will she let the boys talk? saga" hope you are, and hope you'll enjoy

**Tuesday, December 19th**

They share a blunt first.

Just like the last time they were here, that first Friday they spent together where they talked about love, they huddle up against the wall to shield each other from the cold. Even is wearing his big coat, like he always is, but he’s wearing his hair down, too, and Jonas was right, he does look sad, in a way that makes Isak’s heart ache a bit.

“Are you okay?” he asks, first thing, and all of the pain he’s been feeling takes a backseat for a moment to make room for this instead. Even watches him, nods a little, smiles something private, and all Isak wants to do is to reach out and fix the hair behind his ear.

“Yeah,” Even says. “Are you?”

Isak shrugs, and it’s the truth. Even’s expression sobers a little.

“I will be,” Isak corrects it to, because it’s not his fault, it isn’t, and he doesn’t want to see him sad because of it.

“Okay,” Even says, and Isak nods. 

After, Even passes the blunt back to him, and for a while that’s all they do, smoking it until the silence between them is comfortable again. Between them their shoulders touch, and it’s funny, really, how much of a difference it makes for intimacy that it’s night.

“The stars are out again,” Even says, and Isak looks at him before he looks at them.

“They are,” he says.

“Hm.” Even takes a drag of the blunt. “They’re pretty,” he says then, as he hands it over, exact replica of last time they were together like this, and it makes Isak want to chuckle, a little, just as much as it makes him want to cry.

“Even,” he says.

“You know how you were talking about multiple universes?”

Isak breathes. He can’t always keep up, can’t keep up right now, in fact, but he’ll give this to him. Of course he will. So:

“Yeah?” he says.

Even nods. 

“My thing is directing,” he says.

“Okay?”

“That life is something you can direct yourself. You know, it’s like a movie and you choose the path of it, that sort of thing.”

“Okay?”

Even looks at him.

“For a really long time,” he says. “I felt like that wasn’t true for me.” Isak looks at him, too. Even breathes. “For a really long time I felt like a bunch of other people were deciding my movie for me. With the illness, you know. And the hurting people, because of it. And…" Their eyes meet. "The doomed romance.”

Hope might be treacherous now, but Isak can't deny that it's there.

It almost angers him, actually, that Even can do this to him so easily. That Even would dare to build him up only to tear him down again. Only, and God, this is the most treacherous thought he’s ever had:

Only, Even isn’t cruel enough to want to do that. And Even isn’t dumb enough to not know what he’s doing, either. So:

So?

“And now?” Isak asks, in the end, meeting Even’s eyes with all of the determination he can muster.

“I feel different,” Even says.

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah.”

“So–”

“I noticed," Even says, "the other night, that I’ve been telling you about my past like I was expecting you to be my future.”

“Don’t play games with me now.”

“I’m not playing games.”

They look at each other. Both of them breathing, harder than normal, the whole situation of it intense.

"Isak," Even says. "I feel horrible. I've felt horrible all weekend, and I feel horrible right now, and I felt so fucking horrible seeing you in the kitchen this morning, looking so so heartbroken while I knew it was my fault, and I– I–" 

He runs a hand through his hair, the first time Isak has ever seen him do that, looking distressed, almost, and then–

"You just came in here, and you pulled the rug out from underneath me, and you've turned everything upside down, and I don't know anything anymore. I don't know anything. All I know is you. All I know is that I can't stand seeing you sad, I just can't stand it, and that I've _missed you_." 

He exhales a breath. Finds Isak's eyes, and they look pleading, almost, and Isak is still at the place where he'd give him anything he wants. 

"I've missed you so much I haven't been able to breathe, and this is so fucking cliché, and I'm not even sure it's very romantic, but– Isak."

In the moonlight, their eyes meet. 

"It's just been going so _fast_. And you don't know how much I wish I'd been ready on Friday so we wouldn't have had to go through all of this, but I just wasn't, and I don't know how I could have been. That's all I meant this morning, when I didn't agree that Friday was wrong."

 _Oh,_ Isak thinks, and this is hope, this is definitely hope, and–

 _Now?_ he thinks. _Are you ready for me now?_

But doesn't say it. He doesn't want to leave himself so vulnerable once again.

That is, until Even smiles.

By now Isak should have realised that he would do anything for that smile. That he would throw it all in, everything he’s got, just to coax it out; that it could soften him up any day; that, even now, it would make him smile back.

“What date is it today?” Even asks, so much softer, now, like there's a sort of clarity to it, and Isak doesn't miss the fact that he's stepped in closer, too.

“Why?” he asks, still.

“Well,” Even says. And then, like they’ve been doing this the whole time, but like he knows what he’s implying, too, he reaches out to take Isak’s hands. Exactly like last Friday. Only this time–

This time:

“It just didn’t take you long to turn my whole life around.”

“Even,” Isak says. And Even kisses him.

Even kisses him. Even kisses him.

Even is kissing him.

_Fuck._

His lips are cold, he tastes like weed, he lets go of Isak’s hands to cup his cheeks, nudging Isak up against the brick wall behind them, and–

And Isak kisses him back, fingers becoming tangled into his hair, and Even pauses a second to grin when he does, warm breath visible when it hits Isak’s skin because of the cold, before he dives back in, and God:

Isak almost goes weak in the knees for him.

“Even,” he says, when Even pulls out enough to rest their foreheads together and keeps holding onto his cheeks. "Even."

"Isak."

"Are you serious about this?"

"Yeah." Even nods, and Isak: Isak has never felt as relieved as he does right then, never felt as much like falling to his knees because _finally_ – 

"You are?" he asks, still. Because this; this, this, this: He has no weapons and he has no guards, he's coming in naked, heart on his sleeve and in his chest, red and bleeding, and he needs– he needs– "I need you to be sure about this. Even. I can't–"

"I am." 

Even whispers it, and Even: Even is smiling, still, holding onto his cheek and carding a hand through his hair and staying close, and Isak is holding onto his shoulders to stay upright and Isak believes him, or Isak would bet on him, or Isak doesn't care for holding his cards close to his chest anymore because Even can't help him win if he can't see them or Isak–

Isak hugs him. Isak gets on his toes to do it, and he's giggling a little bit with the relief of it, and this is the silliest thing he's ever done, maybe, the most dramatic thing he's ever felt and Even is giggling, too, into his shoulder, as he hugs him back so ecstatically it lifts him from the ground a little bit.

When they pull apart to find each other's eyes together they're both beaming and then, almost in tandem, they reach out to touch each other's smiles. Both of them widen.

"You're sure?" Isak asks, but it's a whisper now, their faces so close together their breaths are mingling, and he's not really asking as much as he's asking Even to remind him that the answer is _yes._

Even does.

"Yeah," he says, a whisper, too, and then: "I mean–" Drawing in a breath he takes Isak's hand and then, gently, places it, palm first, to his chest, where he keeps it, covering it with his own. "I mean, feel this."

Under Isak's palm he feels Even's heart. Beating away a little too fast. 

He chuckles. Chuckles, because the rhytm of Even's heartbeat, beating away way too quickly, matches the rhytm of his own. Because what he feels right now is no longer tension. It's relief.

"Feel this," he says, and reaches out to take Even's hand to place it over his own heart, too, gifting him the secret of how earnestly it beats, all of the time, and knowing that it's okay if he's coming in unguarded because if anything's to be taken from what Even is doing right now, it's that he is, too. Leaning in closer, Even leans their foreheads together again.

"Isak" he says. "This terrifies me a little bit."

"Yeah," Isak says, a breath more than anything, and watches as the white, warm smoke of it disappears into Even's skin like it's being soaked up by it. "It terrifies me, too."

When Even chuckles, it's just a huff of a breath. When Isak chuckles back, it's the same.

"Alright," Even says. "So I guess we're in the same boat, then."

"Yeah," Isak says. "I guess we are."

"Hm. And should we still try?"

Isak nods. Nods, and dares to do it, because he realises that this will be the last time he'll take a step and not be certain where his foot will land.

"Yeah," he says. "I think we should." 

And Even nods back.

"Good," he says. "I think we should, too." And Isak:

Isak leans in to kiss him, again, and Even lets him. Even lets him, and Even kisses him back. Because Even thinks they should, too.

Even thinks they should, too.

*

They don't go to sleep in the same bed.

It's something they agree on, standing in the hallway with their fingers touching. Whispering to each other when they talk. It's something they agree on because midnight is a treacherous time to make decisions, and because they're both still overwhelmed, and because they're taking it slow.

When Isak wakes up, ten in the morning, there's a text in his phone from Even already.

_Even Bech Næsheim_

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
you kept asking me last night if i was really sure so in the interest of saving you any more worry about me:  
i just woke up and i'm still sure  
i thought of you all night  
i can't wait to see you again  
i'm hoping you'll let me sneak myself a kiss

Isak's never smiled as much at something on the screen of his phone as he does now.

Swinging his legs off his bed he pulls his duvet with him when he goes to the kitchen where he, as he so often has, finds the exact person he's looking for. When Even turns and sees that it's him, he grins.

"Just saw your texts," Isak says, and Even's grin turns into a smirk as he crowds in closer.

"Mm." He's close enough now that Isak has to tilt his chin up to look at him. So he does. "And?"

Isak tilts his chin up even further.

"You don't have to sneak," he says, and Even:

Even huffs out a breath like he's amused, or maybe like he's fond, tilting his head for a moment before he finds Isak's cheeks with his palms, cups them, licks his lips. And dips down to kiss him. Grabbing onto his hoodie at his waist, looesly, Isak gets on his toes just a little to kiss him back.

And then they keep kissing. Keep kissing until it's not something they do to each other, but, rather: 

Something they do together, instead.

*

_Eskild Tryggvason, Jonas Noah Vasquez_

**Isak Valtersen**  
so you know how i’ve been heartbroken these last few days?

 **Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
yeah?

 **Eskild Tryggvason**  
yes?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
well  
never mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are y'all happy now asdfghjkl???
> 
> also me every time i write them hugging: *nick jonas voice from s.o.s. aka. the next best song ever recorded only surpassed by burnin' up* _cause hugs are overrated just fyi_. they're not, of course, but it's a good song
> 
> also also this is the second time i've had a heart-attack from reading my own writing so you know. that's where we're at. feel v welcome to leave any and all thoughts in the comments!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! hope you've spent today riding on that wave of relief from yesterday lol. also happy new fics all around day and happy last day of hanukkah

**Wednesday, December 20th**

_Even Bech Næsheim_

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
it’s cold today

 **Isak Valtersen**  
it’s always cold

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
you know what everyone should do once it’s cold?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
move south?

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
stay in bed

 **Isak Valtersen**  
ah

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
so  
you coming?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
no

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
no?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
i have a better idea

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
okay?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
why don’t you come to mine for once?

*

“So,” Even says, appearing in Isak’s doorway, and Isak looks up from where he’s been checking his phone to watch him. Him, with his casual hair and sweatpants and his black t-shirt and his home-knit socks, him with his bright smile and his beautiful eyes and his hands, holding up a bag of crisps. “I brought snacks.”

“Oh,” Isak says, ending his once-over by meeting his eye, still not quite used to this. “Come on in, then.”

Smiling, too, Even does, and closes the door carefully behind him. After it’s done, he pauses for a moment, glancing around the room.

“You know,” he says. “This is the first time I’ve been in here.”

“I do know,” Isak says. 

And he does. It’s the only real sanctuary he has, here, in an apartment shared with several other people; it’s the only place he has where it’s entirely up to him who enters; the only place where he can close the door.

He wants Even to see it. To be here.

“Hm,” Even says, nodding to the bookcase to his right. "Nice bookcase."

“Thanks.”

“Nice window.”

“Thanks.”

“Nice bed.”

Isak’s smile turns into a smirk.

“Get in it?”

“Hm,” Even says. And then, for the first time, does.

After, it’s the first time, too, when he holds out his arm to hold Isak close without the cloak of night, and the first time, then, that Isak slots himself into his chest, fitting in there like he seems to fit into so much of what Even offers and gives.

It's weird. And then also, it's not.

They watch a movie. It’s a Christmas one, this time, _The Grinch_ , and for once Isak finds himself rooting for Christmas to win. While they watch Even shifts his hand so it’s in Isak's hair, now, carding through it and, just like he has before, Isak goes pliant in his arms almost immediately.

“What did you do?” he asks, eventually, once the movie is done and he’s been touching Even’s hair back for a while, the two of them facing each other on the bed, now. “Over the weekend, I mean?”

“Oh," Even says. "I went to Mikael and Adam's."

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” Even plays with the curl behind Isak’s ear, and Isak chases the touch, just a little. They both smile. “Mikael talked some sense into me. Thought I was being an idiot.”

Isak smiles. “For?”

“Not daring to take a chance on you.” Isak keeps smiling. "Pulling away." 

Oh.

Even gets something teasing in his eyes then, and:

"Naturally," he says. "I left, because I thought he was being rude." Isak snorts. "But then I figured he was probably right."

“Hm," Isak says, so overwhelmed, still, that Even is out here, now, saying these things like they're not revelations. "That's nice."

Even nods. "Yeah," he says.

"Hm." Isak worries his bottom lip between his teeth a little. Then: "I went to my parents.”

“Oh?” Even says. “I didn’t know that you still talk to them.”

“No.” Isak shrugs. “Well. I don’t a lot, but…”

He sighs.

“You know,” Even says. “You don’t have to share just because we’re... this, now.”

“No,” Isak says. “I know. I just–”

He just wants to. He just wants Even to know.

“It’s schizophrenia,” he says. “My mum’s illness.” Even’s expression goes a little sober. “And, uh... It was Christmas when my dad left.”

Even closes his eyes.

“Isak,” he says. Opens them again. “I’m sorry. You could have told me to stop.”

“No,” Isak says, because that’s not what he’s getting at, not at all. “No, no. It’s fine.” He finds Even’s eyes to speak to them: “I would have told you to stop if I wanted you to.”

“Okay,” Even says. And then, a moment later, he scoots in closer, across the bit of mattress still between them, and pulls Isak in. It’s a hug, of sorts, and as Even rubs his back, Isak reaches around him to hold onto of the t-shirt covering his back, too. “I’m so sorry, though.”

Isak shrugs. Still, before Even pulls all the way away, he leans in and kisses both of Isak’s cheeks, just once. Isak smiles a little into it.

“So,” Even says. “You went to see him?”

“No,” Isak says. “Not really. I went to see my mum.”

Even nods. “Okay,” he says. “And how is she?”

“Okay,” Isak says, shrugging a little. “Better than when he left.” Even nods, again, and he goes on: “She’s on medication, now, and in therapy, and… She does some work with her local church now, you know, charity stuff. And she’s a freelance educator, actually. She does, like, conferences about it and stuff. They’re quite funny.”

“They’re funny?” Even asks.

“Yeah, you know.” Isak shrugs again. “She’s good at joking about it, and sometimes her delusions are silly, so...”

He glances at Even, but Even is just looking back. Waiting, calmly and patient, and Isak is not good at sharing, but Even makes it so easy, so:

“Uh, she had a relapse last year. And she had to, like, go to the hospital and everything, it was quite bad. But, anyway, I got there, to visit her, and then she told me that… my uncle was on TV.”

Even raises his brows, in question.

“Yeah, I did that, too. My only two uncles are her brothers, and they live in Bergen, so unless it was a weather program–”

Even snorts. Isak smiles, too.

“Anyway, then, after a while, she points to the TV and she’s, like, _he’s there right now_ , and I look, and–”

He breaks of to smile.

“What?” Even says, mirroring him.

“It's, uh..." Isak says. "It’s Donald Trump.”

“No?”

“Yeah.” Isak nods. “He’s not, by the way, it was just–”

“A delusion?”

“Yeah.”

“Phew.”

They grin, together. Even’s been rubbing his back the entire time and, as he shakes his head about it, and Isak shrugs, he keeps doing it.

“That is funny,” he says.

“Right?” Isak says. “Not that it’s not hard, you know, it’s–” He hesitates. Again, Even just waits, attentively. So: “I left her, too, actually.”

He worries Even might stop touching him at that, but he doesn’t, just kisses his temple again, so he explains:

“When my dad left, you know, or not long after. A few weeks before Christmas.”

“That’s when you met Eskild?”

“Yeah,” Isak says.

“So you were, what? Sixteen?”

Isak looks at him. 

“You remember?” he asks.

“Of course I remember.” Even fixes his hair as he smiles. “I remember everything.”

And, _oh_. Isak can’t help but smile, a little, looking away from Even’s eyes not to blush. Can’t help but wonder how Even happened to him. Even, not just a boy who wants him, too, but a boy who wants all of this along with it.

“Right,” he says, and Even tilts his head again, fond. “Anyway. It’s weird. They were good parents when I was a kid, and my mum feels like my mum again now, but... It’s just those five years. Where it felt like I didn't really have parents at all.”

“Yeah.”

“And I guess it’s been taking up a lot of space, you know. In my life.”

“Hm,” Even says, nodding, rubbing over his cheek with his thumb. And then, in a replica of Isak’s words from Tuesday night: “And now?”

Isak smiles.

“And now,” he says. “It’s different.”

“Good different?” Even asks.

“Yeah.” Isak nods. “Good different.”

*

Later, Eskild corners him in the kitchen when he's there alone, getting them drinks, and pulls him into a hug that he, not even pretending to be grumpy about it, allows. So what? After this last week or so it's too late for him to pretend to not need it sometimes, anyway.

"Guess my romantic advice isn't as good as advertised, eh?" Eskild says, once they pull apart again, and Isak smiles.

"That's true," he says. "I want my money back."

Eskild chuckles.

"Good luck with that," he says, but then: "No. I've never been as happy to be wrong, you know."

And Isak: Isak hasn't either. So he smiles.

"Hm," he says. "Guess that makes two of us, then." And Eskild nods.

Later still, Even drags him to the living room table where they sit, fixing cloves into oranges because, Even says, _it's important to involve all of your senses in this Christmas thing, Is_ , and Isak would go along with most things he could suggest so he goes along with this, too. It doesn't hurt, either, that Even makes them mulled wine again or that he makes Isak borrow one of his sweaters because it's a Christmas one or that it's snowing outside.

"You're sure you're okay with this?" he asks, still, once they're sat down, chairs pulled close enough together that their thighs are touching, and Isak nods, looking at him and at the Christmas tree in the corner, the only light turned on in the room so that Even's face is cast only in the soft hue of it. "You'd tell me if you weren't?"

"Yeah," Isak says. "I'd tell you if I wasn't."

Even smiles, nods, leans in to kiss his temple and Isak: Isak's been goddamn mesmerized all day.

It's just that he's never actually had anything before, has only wanted it, and that all of this is so new. To know that he can ask and the answer will be yes, to know that he can lift up his chin and Even will kiss him, that in not too long, if he presented himself for Even to touch, then Even probably would. And Even: 

If Isak thought that he was a giver before, then it has nothing on this; nothing on the way that he's been offering all day, hands and touches and little signs of affections, little words of them, questions that shows it off, like _tell me how you're feeling, remember that I want to know._ And Isak:

Isak feels love-drunk on it, blissed out on it, all pliant because of it.

"You know," Even says, as they're doing the work of inserting the cloves into the orange's skin, methodical enough that Isak's thoughts have been wandering for a while. To him. Always to him. "I got so distracted by all of our drama–" Isak snorts, and Even smiles. "That I almost forgot that it's December. We should do more Christmassy stuff."

"Hm," Isak says, and thinks _we_ , and doesn't know when he'll stop getting stuck of those parts, but hopes it will be a while, because it's so fucking nice to have them to get stuck on, now. "Like what?"

"Like," Even says, finishing tying a bow around the orange he was working on, and glancing up to meet Isak's eyes with something teasing in his own. "I'll take you on a date."

"Oh?"

"A Christmassy one."

Isak smiles.

"Hm," he says. "I could see if I can clear some time in my schedule for you."

Even laughs. Even laughs and Isak loves that sound, missed that sound, when he had to be without it, can't believe quite yet that he will get to spend time with that sound, that he could sink into it if he wanted, now, and stay there if he wanted, too.

"Hm," Even says. "Lucky me." 

And then, quieter, now, and more sincere in a way that Isak sees immediately because he hasn't stopped looking all day and doesn't think he ever will: 

"Thank you. For, you know..." Carding a hand through Isak's hair, he removes it from his eyes, like he wants to meet them. "All the chances you keep on taking on me."

Isak sees the jokes in front of him, but he doesn't say any of them, because sometimes you need to make room for the vulnerability and he feels like this is one of those times. 

Instead, then, he reaches up to cup Even's cheek with a palm, fixing the hair out of his face, too, before he tilts his chin up. Seeing it, Even grins, before he touches Isak's cheeks back and leans in to fulfill the request. Breathing a sigh into it, a content little thing, Isak kisses him back, leaning into it and going weak for him, not just in the knees but all over, even though he's sitting down. Giving himself over to it. Softly, softly, soflty.

It's not their second kiss, but it's close. And Isak:

Isak never took any chances with anything, before. But now: 

Now he'd take a thousand. Now he'd take exactly as many as it was going to take.

"So, uh..." Even says, later, after they've finished brushing their teeth and he's taken his meds, as he's playing with the hem of Isak's shirt before he plays with the neckline of it, too. "I have to get up early tomorrow to go to work, but do you want to join me?" He catches Isak's gaze. "In my room, tonight?"

And Isak: 

Isak smiles, because maybe he's not the only one who's taking chances anymore, because maybe Even is, too; because maybe they're on the same team, now, and maybe he's not alone in wanting, anymore. Maybe they can want together. So:

"Yeah," he says, and thinks of open doors and private rooms and meaning it. "I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't we all love that fresh, giddy start of a relationship eh? hope you liked this more chill time on top of the last few days lol. i thought we needed it
> 
> also i've moved on from the jonas brothers since yesterday and am now on [this ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ir9WzNtqkmA) cover of frank ocean's thinking bout you, if you're into the end-notes music talk that i've apparently got going now and want to know
> 
> pls talk to me in the comments like always, you know i love it when you do


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! why is this chapter so much longer than usual, you ask? because they have sex in it. do with that information what you will. hopefully you'll enjoy

**Thursday, December 21st**

When he wakes back up, he’s in Even’s darkened room, with Even shifting around next to him until, suddenly, the room is lit up by the light of his phone-screen

“Hm,” Isak groans, burrowing deeper down into the pillow to escape the light.

“Sorry,” Even says. “Hi. I was hoping my alarm wouldn’t wake you.”

It’s pitch-black outside and pitch-black in the hallway, too, no light shining through the little creek underneath the door that would normally light up with it. Isak turns away slightly from where Even is still looking at his phone, until, finally, Even puts it down.

“What time is it?” he asks.

“Six thirty,” Even says, and _God_. “I have work, remember?”

Isak groans, making a face at him, and pulls the duvet back up to his chin. Even, however, morning person that he is, just snorts and leans in to kiss his forehead.

“You’re sweet,” he says, and Isak smiles. “Go back to sleep.”

“Hm,” Isak says, lifting his chin just a little, hoping for Even to get the hint. Which he does, and a moment later they're kissing, and Isak is rolling over to face him completely, palm on his jaw as he leans up to him, whole body in it, eyes now closed again. This time, when he hums, it’s happily. “Hm.”

“Okay,” Even says, something amused in his voice as he pulls away with a kiss to his cheek and a hand on his chest, to pause him. “I do need to get up.”

“Okay,” Isak says, and lets him go, but not before he's leaned in and kisses the lowest point of his chest that he can reach through the neckline of his shirt. Then, to Even's smile, he goes back to his own side, duvet pulled up to cover him again. “See you later, then.”

“Yeah,” Even says, something in his voice that Isak can’t quite place. “See you later, baby.”

So, okay. 

If Isak spends a little time smiling into the pillow that still smells like Even before falling back asleep, no one has to know.

*

Later, once Isak and Jonas are both up and showered and it’s breakfast time, the boys come over.

“So,” Magnus says, once they’ve all filed into the living room together and sprawled across the couches, Playstation controllers in hand and FIFA on the TV. “Is. When are you going to give us the deets?”

“The–?” Isak sighs, sending Jonas a look. “You’ve told them?”

“No,” Jonas says, holding up his hands. “I haven’t said anything.”

“Then–”

“Come on, bro,” Mahdi says. “You were miserable just this Saturday, and now you're really, really not. It’s quite obvious something is happening.”

“What he means,” Magnus supplies. “Is that it’s quite obvious that you’re getting laid again.”

Well. Not quite.

“You need to stop caring this much about my sex life,” Isak says. “And start caring a little bit more about your own.” Then, with a look: “Oh, wait…”

“Yeah, yeah, ha ha ha,” Magnus says. “Magnus is going through a dry spell, keep the jokes coming, they’re so original.” Mahdi snorts. “I’m just saying: he’s doing wonders for you.”

“Okay,” Isak says.

“Okay?”

“Well.” Both Magnus and Mahdi raise their brows at him. “Well, I think we might be dating now.”

“Yeah, boy!” Magnus says, in Isak’s direction and, then, in Mahdi’s: “What did I say?”

“Congrats, bro,” Mahdi says, ignoring him. Isak nods out his thanks and, when Magnus slaps Mahdi across the shoulder, frowning about being ignored, chuckles.

“What?” Mahdi says, to Magnus, who shakes his head at him like he’s hopeless, and turns his attention back to Isak.

“So it all worked out?” he says and this, at least, must be Jonas’s doing. Isak doesn’t really mind.

“Yeah,” he says. “Turns out I’m an idiot.”

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Mm, you’re so funny, shut up,” Isak says, and Mahdi and Jonas both snort. “Anyway. Turns out he likes me too, so…”

“So a bit of sex has never hurt anyone?” Magnus asks.

“It’s actually deeply emotional and not primarily about sex but thanks for completely ignoring that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Mm.”

They smile at each other and, after a moment, Magnus reaches out to pat his knee, squeezing it for a moment before taking his hand back. Isak elbows him in the side, but does it softly.

"Anyway," Magnus says, leaning back and clasping his hands together. "Enough about you. Who's going to take up a new hobby with me so I can actually start getting over _my_ breakup now that I'm alone with that grief again." 

Everyone snorts. 

"I was thinking swimming," he goes on, and turns back to Mahdi. "You could join, and we could find you a really hunky swimmer-boy to hook up with. Isak told me once that they have great bodies."

"Shut up," Isak says, but he's laughing, and the rest of them are, too. In the corner the Christmas tree fairy lights are lit, and if this month is about anything, then maybe it's about this. So: "But at the same time," he says. "That's not a bad idea."

"Wow," Magnus says. "I had an idea that wasn't bad. The Christmas spirit really must be settling in, huh?"

And, well. He's not wrong.

*

_Even Bech Næsheim_

**Even Bech Næsheim**  
that clearing some time in your schedule for me that you were thinking of doing? can you do it tomorrow?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
for the date?

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
yeah

 **Isak Valtersen**  
i'll check with my secretary

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
<3  
i'll be at work tomorrow too  
so it'll be after six thirty

 **Isak Valtersen**  
i know  
i know your schedule

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
oh yeah  
you do  
so are you picking me up tonight, too?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
so demanding

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
but are you?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
sure

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
<3  
lucky me

 **Isak Valtersen**  
<3

*

That evening, a little over six, just like he said, he goes to pick Even up.

It’s dark, like it always is at this point in the day, and Isak’s boots creak when he walks across the snow-filled streets. It’s cold, like it always is, too, but when he reaches Even’s KB it’s warm, and there's a yellow square of light falling from the windows onto the glistening snow.

He knocks on the window.

Inside, Even turns around from where he was upending chairs on top of the tables and, when he sees him, grins. Coming to the door, then, he tilts his head with a smile and leans forward, blowing onto the glass-pane of the door before he reaches up to draw a heart on it.

Isak’s tries not to blush and, when Even opens the door for him, tugs him in close and kisses him.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.” Even smiles. “You’re cold.”

“So, warm me.”

“Mm.” Even leans in to kiss him one more time. And then a few more times. Isak cups his cheeks with his cold hands and lets that warm him, too. “Working?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

They kiss one last time before they pull apart and Even turns back to the room, gesturing to it.

“So,” he says. “I just need to finish sweeping and then we can go. I saved some of the scones and stuff that we didn’t get sold if you want some of them?”

“Oh,” Isak says, and grins when Even hands him a little bag of them. “Thank you.”

“Sure.”

When Even turns back to sweeping, Isak hops onto one of the tables that doesn’t have too many chairs on it and sits there, legs crossed underneath him, as he breaks bites off one of the scones and eats them while he waits.

“Still love this outfit, by the way,” he says, and laughs, again, when Even looks over his shoulder to wink at him.

It takes ten or so more minutes before Even is done closing up the shop and they leave out the backdoor, together. After, they go grocery shopping, cocoa and dinner and shampoo, and Isak was joking, earlier, but now that the apron is off, the button-up shirt part of Even’s uniform actually makes him look quite hot.

While they shop, then, Isak watches the way the cut of the shirt makes Even’s collarbones stand out, pays attention to the mature air it gives him, looks at how it fits into his pants, tucked neatly into them, and imagines tugging it out of them and unbuttoning it, too.

By the time they’re back home he’s been simmering with the fantasy of it for a while.

“So,” Even says, once they’re in the kitchen unpacking, and Isak’s already done a mental map of the whereabouts of the rest of them so he knows that it’s only Jonas who’s home, too. “Cocoa?”

“Hm,” Isak says, nodding, but as Even moves to take out two cups from the cupboard for them he comes over, too, placing his hands on the counter behind Even on both sides of his waist so he’s crowded up against it. When Even turns around in his grasp to watch him, he’s already grinning. Isak fingers the neckline of his sweater a little before he leans in.

They kiss. And then they keep kissing, Isak’s one arm around Even’s neck and the other on Even’s cheek, both of Even’s hands on his waist, sneaking up under his shirt to his bare skin, slightly cold but delicate, and Isak sighs into it as he tugs Even closer and licks into his mouth, the whole atmosphere of it a little bit heady already .

“How badly?” Even asks, in-between kisses.

“Hm?”

“How badly do you want cocoa?”

Oh.

“Not that badly,” Isak says, as he grins. Already he’s tugging Even with him, walking backwards towards the kitchen doorway and holding onto Even’s jaw with both hands as he keeps kissing him.

“Good answer,” Even says, and nudges him up against the hallway wall right outside the kitchen doorway. Isak hums into it, already breathless, and hums some more, tugging Even even closer, when their tongues meet again.

Letting go of Even’s jaw he throws out his arm, and knocks on Jonas’s door.

“Yo.”

“Yeah?”

“Laundry time,” he says, because even though he chats about it like it's nothing, he wants this to be a private thing, just the two of them, and if he has to ask Jonas to leave to get that, then he will. Even pulls away to press his smile into his cheek.

“What?” Jonas says, on the other side of his door. “No?” And then: “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Got it.”

"Cool."

As they make the rest of their way towards Isak’s bedroom, that Isak is steering them towards, they keep kissing, smiling into each other’s mouths, this time. Even touches his waist and his cheek, and Isak’s fingers have found their way back into Even’s hair, where he loves putting them.

Eventually, then, Even’s back hits Isak’s closed bedroom door, and Isak’s fingers find their way from his hair to the collar of his shirt.

“You look good in this,” he says, popping the buttons open one by one, down, down, down, until it’s opened all the way.

“Yeah?”

“Hm.”

Even leans off the door to help Isak push it off his shoulders, before Isak throws it to the floor and Even tugs him back in to kiss him again.

“I was hoping you’d want to take it off,” he says, into the kiss, and Isak lets his hands roam over his chest, naked, now. Lets them roam and likes this, likes being with Even, to be close to him, to be on his way to something that's going to be all about them, messy and breathless and everything else.

“Well,” he says. “It worked.”

Even keeps kissing him, and touching him, at the small of his back up under his shirt and, then:

"Music?"

"Mm."

They use Even's phone, because he's the kind of person who has a playlist for this, and as Isak hooks it up to his stereo and starts the songs, Even goes to sit on his bed; waiting. It gives them an opportunity to look at each, and Isak looks, at Even's nose and lips pink from the kissing, at Even's quickly rising and falling chest, at the way Even is looking at him, like he can't wait to get him closer, so does.

When he's over there Even takes his arm, pulls it close and dips down to kiss it, the palm, the ball of it, the wrist, up the soft skin to the crook of his elbow where he stays, kissing that, too. Then he takes his hand, palm first, and places it on his chest, own hand on top of it.

"I'm a little bit nervous," Isak says, because Even's heart is beating with a rhytm that's a little too fast, too.

"Is this your first time?"

"No." Unable to pull his hand from Even's grasp, all he can do is let the tip of his index finger dance across the only part of him he can reach, his collarbone, dipping into the hollow spot just above it like he, later, could dip it into other places. Even's mouth, maybe, or something much more private than that. "But it's my first time with you."

"I know," Even says, like he understands that this is important not because sex is, but because he is, and Isak dips his finger in there again, in and out and in and out. "I feel it, too."

Before they do anything else Even reaches out, both hands, to lift Isak's shirt, just enough to expose his stomach. Which he kisses. Open mouth, just like before, just below Isak's navel, hands on Isak's lower ribs, firm grasp, holding the shirt up. And Isak: Isak leans down, folds himself around him, buries his nose in his hair and inhales. Then kisses that, too.

After, they kiss each other. Kiss and kiss as Isak guides them the rest of the way onto to the bed, nudging Even down to it and crawling up to him, thighs astride his lap even though they're both wearing jeans, one hand to the wall behind them, grasping at it, moving just a little to the deep, slow rhythm of the beat, as Even reaches up under his shirt to roam over his naked chest, his naked back, his naked body, not quite naked, yet.

"Off?" he says, and Isak likes this look on him so much, breathless and a little drunk on desire, probably, eyes glazed over in that hungry way, breaths drawn in deeper and faster than usual, so he sits back and pulls his own shirt off over his head, making a bit of a show of it. Even dips in to kiss his chest, then, mouth all over until it reaches his nipple, and Isak throws his head back and reaches into his hair, as he listens to the front door slamming with Jonas's departure. 

"We're alone," he says, and Even, messy hair and swollen lips and pink cheeks, glances up to grin at him.

"Are you gonna help me get these off, then?" he asks, reaching down to un-button his own jeans, and okay: Isak is getting a little drunk on it, too. He nods.

"Yeah," he says, and then he does, crawling down to the end of the bed to pull them off, giggling a bit because some of the grace has gone out of it, now, but that's okay, too, because Even giggles back and when Isak has pulled his socks off, too, one by one, he spreads his thighs a little bit, still in his boxers, and Isak reaches the point where he's aching to be touched and to touch back. Crawling back up in-between the room Even has made for him, he slides his hands up his thighs, up and up and up and then: past, across his hips and up to chest and his cheeks, that are smiling, now.

"Tease," Even says, and Isak kisses him, hot and wet and bothered, now. "Your turn?"

"Yeah."

And it is Isak's turn, then, lying down and lying back, as Even crawls down to pull his jeans off, too, leg by leg, until he puts Isak's foot on his chest, leaning in closer so he has to bend his leg at the knee, and touches his inner thigh with his fingertips; kisses his shin right above his ankle.

"Now you're the tease," Isak says, and Even nods, smiling.

"Hm."

He gets Isak's socks off, too, then, one by one just like Isak did it, as he kisses up Isak's shin to his inner thigh, open-mouthed and hot, and then: God fucking dammit, past, across his hip and over the soft spot right at his navel, so close to where Isak really wants him, until he keeps travelling upwards, across his nipples for a little bit, touching the one he's not working on with his fingers instead, and then, tip of his nose dragging over Isak's Adam's apple: up to his face.

"You're pink," he says, thumb to Isak's cheeks, firm enough to drag the skin with it, and Isak is panting, now, fingertips only just resting on Even's shoulders in the most feathery touch until he grazes his index finger just lightly over Even's neck, right above the spot where his pulse is; back and forth and back and forth.

"If you don't touch me soon, I'll die," he says, and Even laughs. Then:

"Do you know," he says, "that you pour your whole body into it when you kiss?" And Isak:

Isak actually kind of did.

He didn't before, not fully, but now; now, now, now, now, now. He's got no inhibitions, doesn't want to have them when it comes to this, to them, to everything he feels and everything that they could do together; doesn't want to stop himself from wearing his heart on his sleeve anymore, his desire on his sleeve, from drinking up as much as he can of this. 

It's just: It's just, it's just, it's just that he wants Even to know him, to fully know him, to look at all of the pieces of him that he can lay bare for him, to touch them all if he wants to; it's just that he wants Even to look at him, because he likes who he is in Even's eyes; because when Even looks at him, he sees something that Isak wants to be; because when he does, Isak feels known. Feels seen, feels like Even understands, like Even is understanding in the way that makes him take the time to get to know Isak the way Isak's been craving to be known this whole time.

The way that Even's been willing to get to know him this whole time, too.

"Do I?" he says, teasing in the way that makes Even smile, and kisses him with as much of himself that he can gather to do it with, arms and legs and longing, covering as much of Even with himself as he can, tongue in his mouth and palms on his cheeks, shifting them around so he has footing, now, to move onto him, into him, skin against skin and whole body in it, even though they're still clothed and haven't really started yet.

"Baby," Even says, and Isak lets out the first desperate sound of the night. "Baby?"

"Yeah?"

Even kisses him. Kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, and then:

"This," he says, and the hesitation makes Isak reach out to fix the hair behind his ear, caressing the shell of it, and their thighs, spread wide to make room for each other, doesn't make the touch feel out of place, because if it belongs anywhere, it's right here, in bed with them. "This matters to me." 

Even looks at him, beautiful and vulnerable and open; everything on his sleeves, too. 

"I just, I don't know... Need you to know that."

"Okay," Isak says, and God. _God_. "Me, too. It matters to me, too."

 _And you_ , he thinks. _And you, and you, and you, and you._

"And you," Even says, like he knows. "So do you."

"Even," Isak says, whispers it, into the skin at his temple, holding him close with his arms around him, as Even holds him close, too, palms firmly pressed to the low of his back, arms wrapped around it, as he kisses Isak's cheek besides his mouth. "Even."

"Isak," Even says.

They keep kissing the entire time. Isak is in his lap, in his arms, craving him; is kissing his cheeks like he's kissing his mouth, kissing his skin like he's kissing his mouth, open-mouthed and hot, tasting him with his tongue; kissing his jaw, his neck, the space between his collarbones, his earlobe and the dip beneath it, the three freckles on the side of his face, panting and breathing and saying his name. Saying his name and all the names of love, and saying them until both of their lips are swollen, their cheeks are tinted pink, and their hair is in disarray.

"Like this?" they ask, fingertips and mouths, fingertips in each other's mouths, _like this, like this, like this_ , and they both keep nodding, too. Eventually Isak kisses his way from Even's neck to his lips and then pulls back, nudging his nose with the tip of his own, resting their foreheads together, holding his face in the palms of his hands. And then smiles. Smiles, until they're giggling, too.

"Like this?" Even asks, touching Isak's laughing mouth, and Isak nods.

"Mm-hm," he says. "Like that."

*

_Jonas Noah Vasquez_

**Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
coast clear?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
yeah

 **Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
and?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this house we're very dramatic about sex, apparently. do y'all remember when he was like "nah fam" at feeling things, though? he's almost a butterfly now
> 
> also what are they listening to, you ask? let's be real it's how's that by fka twigs.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're soooo close to the end now wtf is happening. happy last friday of this whole thing! hope you enjoy

**Friday, December 22nd**

At six thirty on Friday he’s back in front of Even’s KB again. They’re going on their date.

This time, he’s the one who draws Even a heart, from outside, and then he stays, just like yesterday, sitting on top of one of the tables as he waits for Even to finish so they can get going.

"Cocoa," Even says, after he's sat down, handing him a cup of it with a teasing sort of grin on his face. "Since we got sort of interrupted last night." 

Isak laughs.

"Oh," he says. "You do think of everything, huh?"

"Mm," Even says, catches his eye, and winks. "For you."

Once they’re outside, Isak walks backwards ahead of Even to keep eye-contact with him, and watches Even watch him with a smile, Christmas lights shining bright above them and snow laying white beneath their feet.

"So," he says. “Where are we going?”

“Mm,” Even says. “Okay. So, this is my last valiant effort to convince you that Christmas is great.” Isak snorts. “And then on Sunday we can count the tally up.”

“Interesting,” Isak says, just to tease; Just to watch the way his grin lights up with it. “So we’re going to Santa’s toy factory?” Even rolls his eyes, but he doesn't stop grinning. “To the north pole?”

“You’d go to the north pole?”

“Probably not.”

“We’re going ice skating."

“Oh.” Isak nods out his approval, reaches out, takes Even's hand in his to pull him closer, still walking backwards but holding onto him, now. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Even asks.

“Mm.”

So they do.

Even rents them skates, and Isak puts them on, sitting in one of the changing areas right by the rink and watching, with a little bit of trepidation, how Even does up his skates in a way that suggests he actually has any idea what he’s doing. Which Isak, decidedly, does not.

“Uh,” he says, once Even, as soon as his skates are on, skates out onto the rink and twirls around to face him. Effortlessly. “Did you just decide on this so you’d have an excuse to hold my hand?”

“Yes,” Even says, and Isak sends him a look. “You haven’t done it before?”

“Not since I was very young.”

“Hm,” Even says, and Isak sees him following it with his eyes when Isak places both feet, now all done up, on the ice. “Okay?”

“Well,” Isak says, glancing sceptically to the ice. “I might need your help a bit.”

“Good, then, that that’s what I’m here for."

“To help me from falling?”.

“To fall with you.”

Isak rolls his eyes, not so much to hide the fondness in his face as it is to make Even grin. Which he does. Still, after, Isak reaches out to steady himself by holding onto Even's arm, when Even tells him to and, then, a little bit of stumbling later, he’s out on the ice.

“Well done,” Even says, and although he’s being placating, Isak smiles.

“Thanks.”

So: they skate.

It’s that kind of cloudy sky, tonight, that’s so all-encompassing that it traps the lights from all of the city streets and turns itself yellow with them. It’s cold, too, as always, but Isak’s gloved hand feels warm in Even’s, and Even’s cheeks turn red when they get cold, so Isak doesn’t mind the sting in his own.

After half an hour or so it starts snowing, and Isak stumbles into Even’s chest when Even stops to look at it, but Even’s hands on his waist stop them from tumbling over. Isak glances up, too, then, letting the flakes fall onto his face, and sticks out his tongue to taste one of them. When he glances back down, Even is watching him with something fond in his eyes.

“Well,” Isak says, hands sneaking onto Even’s shoulders as Even’s stay on his waist. “Is this good enough for you, movie-boy?”

“Almost,” Even says, and Isak knows exactly what he means. Still:

It’s Even who leans in first.

As they kiss, Even lets go of Isak’s waist to hold onto his cheeks instead, and it might be what would bring them tumbling to the ground, but Isak wouldn't mind too much if they did. Even’s mouth is warm, even if the world around them isn’t, and there are Christmas lights strung out above them, and a Christmas song about love playing on a speaker somewhere close, and it’s beautiful. It is.

So Isak kisses him back. Kisses him back, the same way he did last night, everything he's got thrown into it, because he held himself back so much, and now–

Now, this.

After, Even pulls back to grin at him, holding onto his hands, and uses the grasp to pull him, unsteady and stumbling, into a hug. And he shines so brightly, Isak thinks. Shines brighter than all of the lights here. And Isak:

Isak never stood a fucking chance.

*

It keeps snowing, even as they finish skating, hand back the skates, and go for a walk.

They’re holding hands, now, and a little time after they’ve begun walking they find a spot of fresh snow off the road that Even pulls them to, smiling, before he throws himself into it to make an angel.

“Fitting,” Isak says, going in to sit astride his lap before he can get up and reveal his work. Leaning down to touch Even’s nose with his own, he lets his hands travel from Even’s arms to his hands, too, before they intertwine. “You, as an angel.”

But Even shakes his head.

“No,” he says. “Angels are dead.”

Oh.

The both of them sober, at the same time. Isak sits back up, then, and he’s no longer unfamiliar with Even’s sad eyes, so he recognises them now, for what they are.

“One of the first things I told you about me," Even says, still a little sadness to it. "Is that I once tried to die. And," he goes on, like he's been thinking about all of this for a while, like it's a conversation he's already had by himself many times, or maybe with people who aren't Isak but were similar to him. "And I told you about the bipolar upfront because it'd make you all think it's not that big of a deal and it isn't, always, but sometimes it is." 

He reaches up to lift a curl from Isak's forehead, and Isak is glad he's not shying away from looking him in the eyes. 

"Sometimes it's the only thing I can remember."

"Okay," Isak says.

"And I’m still a little scared.” 

Reaching out, he smoothes Even's hair out of his eyes, too, and he's always been the kind of person who thinks, a lot, just like Even is, and he's thinking maybe this is where the depth of what he's feeling comes from; this, the fact that they're prying the doors to the depths of themselves open for each other and this, the fact that he sees a reflection of himself in Even, only it's a reflection of the boy he wants to be. The kind, brave one who knows how to be vulnerable with his pain, to breed vulnerabilty out of it instead of hardness.

“Of?” he asks, because Even should get to explain it himself.

Sitting up, Even leans in, so their foreheads touch again. Carefully, then, he reaches out to touch Isak’s cheek, and it’s so careful it looks a little like Even is worried Isak might go up in smoke as soon as he’s touched. And Isak:

Isak doesn’t know a lot of Even’s touches yet, but he can already tell that this one will always be the kind that'll break his heart. It’s like he’s being memorised. Like Even sees himself driving in a fast car down a dead end street with Isak in the passenger seat.

It's hard to look at. It is. But he keeps looking anyway, because sometimes that's what love is. Sometimes, just like with his mother, that's all he has to give.

“I just,” Even says. “It was so hard. It was so hard to watch as everything Sonja and I thought we had crumbled to the ground around us, and it was so hard to know how much of it was because _I'm_ not easy to be with, and–" He fixes Isak's hair behind his ear. "We could burn each other really badly." He breathes. "Or I could burn you."

Isak closes his eyes. Opens them again.

“Even,” he says, pressing his forehead into Even’s like that will be enough. “Can I be honest?”

“Yes.”

“It could happen again.” Even pulls away, to look at him. “Or it could be really hard,” Isak goes on. “Or I could fuck it up. Or you could want to die again, or I could end up breaking your heart, or a meteor could destroy the entire planet in two weeks–”

Even smiles. Smiling back, Isak reaches out to intertwine their fingers, holding them to his chest.

“When," he says, squeezing Even's hand a little bit. "When Abraham sacrificed Isaac to show his faith in God, Isaac let him, without a single complaint, because he believed enough in God to know that he would be resurrected again. They say he was a precursor to Jesus." He smiles. "It's Mamma's favourite story to tell me. It's where I got my name." 

Even gets something soft in his eyes, reaches out to touch his cheek, and Isak leans into it as he squeezes his hands, again, and he hasn't been religious for a while but he remembers how devotion felt. How it was a little bit like this.

"I think," he says, "that maybe we don't know. I think maybe it's not about knowing, it's about believing, and I think we're worth a shot."

"Isak," Even says, whispers it the way Isak used to whisper prayers, and when he leans up towards Isak, Isak leans down. "Isak. You don't know how happy I am to have met you."

Isak doesn't say it, but he thinks Even is wrong. He knows.

He knows because he feels it, too.

On the way home, then, they walk by a Christmas market and, later, walk through it. Even buys them a cup of mulled wine that they share under the snow. And Isak buys Even a star.

“For your Christmas trees,” he says. “The one we have at home is missing one.”

“And you’re my star?” Even asks. But Isak shakes his head.

“And,” he says. “I want to be a part of all of your Christmases from now on. Despite the uncertainty.”

When Even hugs him, it’s tight.

“How are you so brave?” he asks.

“I’m not,” Isak says, and Easter is the time of sacrifice, of going to your death and hoping you'll survive, but Christmas is the season of love. A love given by someone who believes that you're worth it. A love so big it's meant to save you, and does. “I'm not." Isak meets his eye. "I just like you so much that I don’t have a choice.”

*

When they come home, Even brings Isak into his room and brings his sketchpad out. Then hands it over.

The first drawings, when Isak flips through it, are of older people that he doesn’t know but that he suspects are Even’s parents, judging by their shared noses and eyes. They’re smiling, in the sketches, and Isak likes how nice they look, and Isak likes that Even has drawn them like this. That he likes them this much.

Next, it’s his friends. The one’s that Isak’s met. They’re there in smaller versions, always together until, gradually, the sketches of Mikael grow larger than the sketches of the rest of them, just as a new person begins to enter, too: Sonja. Isak flips through those pages too, with a smile on his face, until:

It’s him.

“Oh."

“Go on,” Even says, and, after a moment, he does. He flips through the pages, and it keeps being him on them, for miles and miles of white, growing more and more true to how he looks up close as time goes on. There are other people, too, Jonas and Eskild especially, but the biggest one, always, is him.

When he’s flipped through all of them, he looks up to Even, who looks back.

“Go back to the first one,” he says, quietly. “Of you.”

Isak does. It’s black and white like all of them are, but, actually, it’s not. It’s shades of grey, shades and shades and shades of it, and it’s imprecise and done quickly and a little too perfect to be entirely accurately, but it is, despite all of that, him.

“Look at the date.”

Isak does. And there, in the top right corner, this is what it says:

December first.

“Even,” he says.

“I felt it.” Even looks at him, now, in a reverent kind of way, and Isak has never felt anything like this, he hasn’t, never felt anything as all-encompassingly human as this. “The pull. New and familiar at the same time, and it scared the shit out of me, at first, so I didn’t do anything about it, but I think you should know: I felt it.”

“Even,” Isak says, again, and when Even smiles, he smiles, and he was lying to himself when he said he fell, or at least he wasn't telling the whole truth, because he felt the pull, too, so quickly, and:

“Me, too,” he says. “I felt it, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're still very dramatic, apparently
> 
> also next in the "what music has em been listening to all day?" saga: now it's lana del rey's lust for life record. this is a lie it hasn't actually been all day because i've been listening to the interview i've been transcribing all day but besides that
> 
> tell me your thoughts in the comments?


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it really is the 23rd, huh? that's fucking wild, it doesn't even feel real. anyway i hope you'll enjoy this!

**Saturday, December 23rd**

Saturday, when he wakes up, it's in Even's bed.

It's light out, now, which it hasn't been for the last few days when they've awoken together, because Even's had to get up to go to work. He's still here, though, or at least there's someone here; a warm leg that Isak has one of his own thrown over and the sound of pencil scratching gently over paper. Isak smiles and opens his eyes.

It's true, what he thought. Even is sitting up against the headboard, lit in the hue of his bedside lamp, a gentle addition to the greyer morning light coming in through the window, looking dishevelled and puffy with sleep still sitting in his skin, and under it. And he's drawing.

The last time they were like this, Even startled when he found him looking back. But now:

"Oh," he says, after glancing down to Isak, comfirming Isak's suspicion that he's the one being drawn. Then reaches out to touch his hair with a gentle smile on his face, fixing it a little behind his ear like he wants to better see his eyes. "Hi."

"Hi," Isak says. When Even keeps touching him he leans into it and then, a little slow, because he's still tired, reaches up to tap the back of the sketchbook. "Is it me again?"

"Mm," Even says. "It is you."

"Can I see?"

"Sure."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Nodding a little, Even smiles once again, and then he gestures Isak closer with a nod of his head. So Isak goes, shifts around so he's joining Even at the headboard, and leans in to look at the drawing, only halfway done, that is indeed of him, and he'll never get used to that, probably. The fact that Even looked at him and saw something worth it to submit to paper, to history, like that. He'll never get over it, but he believes that it's true. "You like it?"

"Mm," Isak says, thinking simple confirmation might convey his feelings well enough, and then: "Is this symbolism, or? Like one of your movies?" 

Reaching out to touch Even's hair back, brushing over the shell of his ear with his fingertips, he gestures with his glance to the posters above them. 

"You confessed and now I get to see them?"

"Mm," Even says. "Was letting me into your room symbolism?" 

Isak grins.

"Maybe," he says. "Could be."

"Well." Even is grinning back, now, wide in the way that makes Isak feel so _happy_. "Maybe this could be, too."

"Oh," Isak says, raises his brows a bit to tease. "So I guess we do direct our own movie, then?"

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

Giggling a little, they lean in to kiss, not bothering to subdue their smiles but pressing them together, instead, and Isak feels so good about this. He feels so, so good about this.

"Is there anything else you wanna tell me?" he asks. "Any confessions you wanna make, that kind of stuff? Hm?" 

Even is still smiling, still, still smiling, but then he shrugs, and:

"Well." Again, Isak raises his brows, but this time it's in question. "You know how I'm going to go home to my parents tomorrow afternoon?"

"Mm-hm," Isak says. 

"And you know how..." Even chuckles, a little, something that sounds like nerves in it, and Isak's grin dawns in a slow way, as the realisation of what he's saying does, too. "Oh, don't look like that," Even says, and Isak laughs, so Even grins. "You know how they're going to ask me if I'm seeing anyone?"

"Mm-hm," Isak says, not bothering to hide the smile in it, which Even rolls his eyes at and Isak doesn't mind at all. "What's your question?"

"Shut up."

"You wanna do it on Facebook, too?"

Even sighs, a little exasperated but then, God, then, his face goes all soft again. 

"I do," he says, and Isak was joking before, but now he goes a little soft, too. "I do." And then: "I have to call Sonja first, though. I mean, I don't know if I _have_ to, I just feel like maybe I..." He meets Isak's gaze. "Should."

"Okay."

"Is that...?" Even keeps looking at him. "How do you feel about that?" And Isak:

Isak feels like Even is the best person he's known. A better person, by any measures, and he doesn't take that to mean that he's not good himself or that Even can't be bad or that Even can't be human. It's just that he's better. Period. So:

"I feel," he says. "Like you're one of the kindest people I know." With something tender in his eyes, something sincere, Even smiles, and Isak reaches up to brush the hair out of his face, smiling back. Nodding, just a miniscule little one, to show him that he means it. "And like I like how deeply you care."

"Funny," Even says, but doesn't sound amused. Just fond. "That's how I feel about you, too."

There's something about that that hits Isak right between his ribs. The fact that Even sees him as someone who cares; the juxtaposition between how deeply he likes to be seen that way, and how long he kept himself back from it; how real this feels and how, for so long, he's been dying longing for something like that. 

So he smiles.

"Hm," he says, leaning in closer, quiet voice, palm on Even's cheek. "That _is_ funny."

"Mm," Even says. And when he leans in the rest of the way for them to kiss, Isak leans into it with everything he's got, like he craves it. Because maybe he kind of does.

*

_Isak defence squad_

**Isak Valtersen**  
so  
in the future, when you speak to me, you should all know that you’re speaking to a kept man

 **Mahdi Disi**  
nice!

 **Magnus Fossbakken**  
yay boy!! congrats!!

 **Jonas Noah Vasquez**  
finally  <3

*

That afternoon they migrate to the living room where they, with Jonas and Eskild, watch Die Hard. Even spends the first five minutes of it complaining that it’s not a Christmas movie, and Jonas and Isak spend the next two shutting him down.

Once it turns evening the rest of the boys come over, too and, spontaneously, Even invites his friends over as well until, suddenly, they’ve gathered a whole party in here. Even puts on music and Mahdi and Magnus bring along beers and, by the time the clock strikes eight in the evening and everyone is about arriving, they’ve got a pretty decent party going.

The moment Even’s friends see them standing together, in the corner of the room, they huddle together to whisper to each other. Based on that and the exasperated look that Even sends them, Isak assumes they already know.

At least Even can brag about having friends who don’t plan on embarrassing him in front of his new partner, though. Isak can’t say the same. In fact, Magnus is well on his way to tipsy by the time he comes stumbling over, and crashes into Even with a hug.

“Oh– kay,” Isak says, sighing at him, and finds Mahdi’s gaze to share a look about him, the both of them rolling their eyes. “Alright, Mags. Chill out.”

“I’m just welcoming him to the club,” Magnus says. And When Isak reaches out to touch his shoulder to get him to let go, Magnus pushes his hand away. Even just chuckles.

“It’s fine,” he says. And Isak would say something to that, really, he would. Only before he can Magnus has let go of Even, and moved onto him instead. Isak stumbles a little under the weight of him but, eventually, resigns himself to it and hugs him back.

“What did you drink?” he asks.

“Just,” Magnus says. “A tiny bit of beer.”

“You okay?”

“I’m great,” Magnus says. “I’m fine. Even is very pretty.”

Isak looks to Even, who’s talking to Mahdi now, but who, still, glances at Magnus with a laugh when he hears what Magnus just said.

“Yeah,” Isak says, and Even raises his brows at him and winks. Behind him, in the hallway, Jonas opens the front door for Eva and, behind her, the rest of the girls, too. “Oh. Uh... Eva’s brought the girls,” Isak goes on, and Magnus pulls out of his grasp.

“Vilde is here?”

“Yeah,” Isak says. “Behind you.”

Joining Even and Mahdi, he turns to watch it as Magnus walks up to her and, after a little bit of a greeting, pulls her into a hug. Glancing back to Mahdi, they share a smile.

“Girlfriend?” Even asks, nodding to the sight of them, and Isak shakes his head.

“Well,” he says. “Ex-girlfriend.” Even nods. “And lesbian.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah,” Isak says, nodding, too. “He helped her figure it out, actually.”

“He did?”

“Yeah."

“It was quite nice, really,” Mahdi adds.

“Hm," Even says. "He wasn’t sad?”

“No, he was,” Isak says. “Very sad, as I suppose you would be, but, you know. They both say they cherish that time a lot.” Even looks at him. “They were important to each other, for a long time.” He shrugs. “I guess that’s what matters, to them.”

Even smiles. It’s slow-dawning, a private little thing, and Isak mirrors it. As Mahdi goes leaves them to it, Even raises his beer for a toast.

“To mattering to each other,” he says, and Isak snorts, softly.

“To mattering to each other,” he repeats.

Their beer bottles clink.

*

Later, before the party finishes but after it's been winding down for a bit, he finds Sana in the corner, sipping on her bottle of water on the couch that Vilde just got up and left, when Isak joins her. He's still on beer, and when he holds the bottle of it up for a toast, she clinks the plastic one against it. 

"You know," she says. "You're making a strong appearance in the rumor mill right now."

"Really?" he says. "I thought you didn't listen to that kind of stuff." She rolls her eyes and, watching it, he chuckles. "No. I'm assuming you mean me and Even?"

"Even and I," she corrects him, and he sends her a look but she just sends him one back, before she softens a bit, ending up smiling, instead. "But yes."

"Mm." He shrugs. "They're true."

"Are they?"

"I mean, if they're saying– And don't tell him this, just yet." She raises her brows, smile still on her face. "But if they're saying I'm a little bit in love with him? Then yeah, they are."

"In love," she says, smile a grin, now. "I didn't think you'd go that far." Again, he shrugs, and maybe he didn't either, and maybe it's intense, this, actually saying it out loud, but it remains true. "Told you he was nice, didn't I?"

"He's better than nice."

It's a vulnerable confession, an honest confession, an almost private one, but if there's anyone better than Sana to tease him when he needs to be teased and to keep other things private, things like this private, then he hasn't found them yet. All she does is tilt her head a little and nod.

"Mm," she says. "I'm sure he'd say the same about you."

Isak smiles. Because he would, yeah, Isak is pretty certain that he would, and because it's such a soft thing for her to say, such a kind thing for her to say, and because back years ago, before he came out completely and before she and Yousef confessed to each other, they spent their time together being cynical. And now:

"Look at us, eh?" he says. "We used to be so grumpy together."

She snorts. And then:

"Yeah," she says. "I like this better, though."

He nods.

"Yeah," he says. "I like this better, too."

"Hm." Sana raises her bottle once again. "Merry Christmas to that."

He smiles.

"Yeah," he says. "Merry Christmas to that." When their bottles meet he finds her gaze, more sincere, now, and gives her a little nod. "Merry Christmas, Sana."

She smiles, too.

"Merry Christmas."

*

Two hours later Isak’s bedroom door slams shut as he pushes Even up against it.

“You really like things with buttons, huh?” Even says, panting and undoing his own belt as Isak makes quick work of his shirt, tugging it off his shoulders without finesse as soon as he can before he dives back in to kiss him. To kiss him, pausing their speed for a moment to lean into it, melt into it, let Even crane his neck down to meet him, as all he does is go so pliant in it their chests end up touching.

“Hm,” he says, then, getting out of his own jeans as well before pausing, a second, to let Even pulls his t-shirt off his head. After, Even throws it to the floor and wraps his arms around him again, naked skin to naked skin now, so close they're almost hugging, Even's thigh in-between Isak's legs and Isak leaning up to him so heavily he's almost crawling up it. Isak gets lost in the wanting for a moment, as lost as he has every other time, too, before Even's open-mouthed kiss to his shoulder reminds him they've still got somewhere else to go. “They look good on you.”

“Thanks,” Even says, and cups his hips to guide him as they move towards the bed, Isak walking backwards and keeping his arms locked around Even’s neck to keep from falling.

“Careful,” Even says.

“We should have cleaned the floor.”

“Here.”

The backs of Isak’s thighs hit the mattress, and he gets onto it, pulling Even with him and tugging him in close so he gets onto his thighs, astride them. Isak, lying back to watch, reaches up to drag his nails across his abdomen as he unbuttons his own jeans, revealing just a little sliver of the fabric of his boxers underneath. Finding his eyes to share a teasing grin with him, Isak reaches out, fingertip only, and dips it just under the elastic of the waistband.

"You are a tease," Even says, bicep flexing as he uses the both of them to hold him up as he leans in closer to hover above Isak's face. Isak kisses the muscle, open-mouthed, hand coming up to keep his arm in place, before he kisses him.

"You like it," he says.

"Oh, I'm wild for it." Even kisses his neck, just below his ear, and Isak kisses his cheekbone, and they can do it at the same time. "For you."

"Good," Isak says. "Me, too."

After, or when it's more in-between than after, maybe, they lie side by side on Isak's bed, facing each other, as Even holds his hand between his own, touching it. Massaging it, really, thumbs rubbing up and down across the skin, digging into it, cracking the bones in it until it feels entirely new. 

Isak watches it, smiling, until Even watches him and lets go of his hand to touch his face instead. His eyebrows. The corner of his lips, so close to his mouth that Isak turns his face to the side just enough to be able to kiss them, his fingertips, his palm, the ball of it, his thumb.

"I hope," he says, "that it's not too soon to ask. And I know that we still have to finish Christmas, but..." Their eyes meet. "Do you want to spend New Year's Eve together?"

Even nods, thumb dragging over Isak's cheek as he does, gentle, gentle touch, as the rest of his palm rests on Isak's jaw.

"Yeah," he says. "Why would that be too soon?"

"Because," Isak says. "I'd like to kiss you." He smiles, a little thing, hoping Even will understand. "At midnight."

It takes a second, but then Even is smiling, too, all over his eyes and all over his face.

"Mm," he says. And then, a little teasing: "You know: Some people say that the person you kiss at midnight on New Year's Eve is the person you'll spend the rest of the year with."

"Mm," Isak says, leaning in closer, whole body in it like his whole body is longing for the closeness as much as he is. Leaning in closer, lifting his chin so Even could kiss him, easily, if he wanted, sneaking a hand around his waist to his back as the other one rests on his shoulder, feather-light touch, index finger fingering the dip between his collarbones. "Is that so?"

Even grins. And looking at it, Isak does, too.

"Yeah," Even says, a whisper, almost. "It is."

"Hm, well." Pretending to consider it, Isak shrugs, but he's still meeting Even's skin with touches that speak nothing of indiference. "Guess I could live with that."

"Oh, yeah?" Even says.

"Yeah."

"Well." Just like Isak did before, Even leans in closer. "I guess I could, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just making sure you’re aware of this, but this is “letting yourself care deeply about other people is a beautiful thing” propaganda. also throwback to when even was drawing isak in bed and startled when he was caught and said “i wasn’t expecting you to be looking back.” if the sketchbook is his heart and looking is feeling things then don’t say i don’t deal in symbolism
> 
> we’re so close to over now. tomorrow’s chapter will be posted earlier than usual because i’ll be busy in the evening with ya know. christmas. shall we say noon norwegian time? or something like it at least
> 
> as always, i love it when you tell me things in the comments, so please do. and if you haven't before, why don't you make this your first time? early christmas present for me and all


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here we are. the last chapter. so, for the last time: i hope you'll enjoy!
> 
> see you on the flip-side

**Sunday, December 24th**

On Christmas Eve day, Isak wakes up early. In Even's arms.

For once Even is sleeping in, so when he gets out of bed, reluctantly, during the early morning, to go to the bathroom, he's the only one up.

Or so he thinks. Until he sees the light coming from the living room and finds Eskild sitting there, on the couch, the lamp by the sofa on, reading a book under a blanket as, outside, it snows along with the dawn of the day.

"Hey," he says and, when Eskild glances up at him, walks in.

"Hi," Eskild says. "What on earth are you doing up, huh?"

"Bathroom," Isak says. "What about you?"

"Oh." Eskild shrugs. "You know."

Isak does know. Isak does know, because he's not the only one who's had a hard time with Christmas until now. He's not the only one who has a turbulent family life, but he's the only one, out of the two of them, who's had a chance to try and build a little something new out of it. Eskild doesn't share a lot of this with him, feeling too much responsibility, maybe, to want to burden him with it, but Isak still knows enough to know that. So:

"Hm," he says, and then: "Can I join?"

"Join?"

"On the couch?"

"Oh," Eskild says. "Yeah, sure."

He draws his legs closer to himself, then, on the couch, and Isak sits down at the other end of it, crossing his legs beneath himself and accepting some of the blanket that Eskild offers him.

"I," he says. "I'm sorry that I'm not going to be home with you for Christmas this year."

"Oh, Isak," Eskild says, shaking his head a little, and he's wearing that same caring look he was wearing when he picked Isak up at the bar all those years ago, now. "Don't be sorry."

He closes his book and rests it in his lap, hands on top of it, as he finds Isak's eyes and meets them. Leans in a little.

"I'm so, so happy for you. You know that right?"

"Yeah." Isak shrugs. "Okay. I just..." He fiddles a little with the end of his blanket, looking down at his hands. "They're, uh... They're not the only family I have."

For a moment Eskild doesn't say anything. Not until Isak glances up at him, and finds him already looking back.

"Hey," he says and then, before Isak has time to notice, he's scooted down the couch to pull him into a hug. And today Isak doesn't protest. Today he just hugs him back, listens to the noises of the dishwasher in the kitchen, the rattling of the window in the wind, and Eskild's breathing. And keeps hugging him back.

They pull apart.

"That's still true even if you're not here tonight. Okay?" Isak nods. "You don't have to worry so much all the time."

"Mamma says that, too."

Eskild smiles. "Well," he says. "She is right."

"Hm," Isak says. "But will you be alright?"

"Yeah." Eskild nods. "I will."

"Okay."

"Are you excited?"

"Not really." They both chuckle, and he wouldn't say this to just about anyone, but he can say it to him, and it's true, he's dreading it as much as he's happy about it, but maybe he is a little happy about it, too. So: "Or, I don't know."

The remnants from last night's party are still sitting around the room. The empty beer bottles and the tinsel and, on the coffee table, a couple of Christmas hats. Smiling to himself, just a little, he reaches out to pull one of them into his lap and then reaches out, again, this time to put it on Eskild's head, shrugging when Eskild looks at him with something sincere in his eyes. Not laughing, because this isn't really funny, although maybe it is a little bit.

"There, right?" he says. "That helps a bit."

"Mm," Eskild says and then, smiling to himself just like Isak did before, reaches out for another one of the hats and, in a mirror of what Isak just did, places it on top of his head, too. "There."

"Hm."

"Now it's Christmas."

Isak snorts, a breath of it, and when Eskild reaches out to squeeze his shoulder just a little, he lets him.

"Christmas is hard sometimes, right?" Eskild says. "If there was any point of the year where I'd forgive my dad for throwing me out it'd be now, because it does just suck." Isak nods. "But Noora is coming, and we're going to go volunteering. And, besides, we've had a nice time, too, right? The two of us." He raises his brows. "And the four of us."

"Mm."

"And you've found love and everything."

Isak smiles, a litle shyly, but keeps meeting his eye. And Eskild nods.

"So I guess," he says. "If we're doing up the tally, then this..."

He shrugs.

"Then this has been a pretty nice year."

"Yeah," Isak says, and it has been. It really has been. So: "I think so, too."

*

As he heads back to his room, where Even is still sleeping, he brings yet another Christmas hats from the living room with him.

Back in the room he reaches out to run a fingertip over Even's face, and, as Even begins stirring, he leans in to kiss him right where his freckles are, in the open-mouthed way that he kisses him at night, too, until Even turns his face, eyes still closed, palm coming up to cup the back of his neck, and kisses him with his lips, instead.

"Morning," Isak says, and Even opens his eyes to smile. "It's Christmas."

"It is."

"Hm." Reaching out, Isak runs his thumb up Even's throat in a caress, as Even reaches up to tug at the end of the Christmas hat he almost forgot that he's wearing. With a gentle grin he finds the other one, and places it on Even's head, until Even's smile turns into a grin, too. "Merry Christmas, Even."

"Mm," Even says. "Merry Christmas, Is."

They kiss for a while. Kiss and hold each other, Isak back under the duvet, until they lie down together instead. Isak runs his fingerips over Even's forearm, resting on his chest, and they stay like that until, eventually, he reaches out to pull the Advent calendar closer, from where it was sitting on his bedside table, and, still lying halfway down, pops out the last chocolate before he presents it, to Even, in the middle of his palm.

"The last one," he says, and Even nods, watching him with a sleepy, tender look on his face. "Maybe we should share it."

"Okay," Even says.

So they do. They split it between them, meeting each other's eyes as they pop it into their mouths and watch each other as they chew, smiling with nothing but their eyes until they swallow, and smile with their lips, too. After he's done, Even leans in to kiss him again. And after he's done that, he reaches out for Isak's hand, placing his own palm against the palm of it. Isak intertwines their fingers just a little.

"Do you remember," he says. "When we said we didn't dare?"

Even nods.

"Yeah," he says, almost a whisper now, and they've leaned in close again, only touching where they intertwined hands lie on the mattress between them, and they've gone quiet, now, like they were the first time they shared this bed, too. "I guess we've made daring boys out of each other, hm?"

Nodding, Isak considers him for a bit. Considers him, the way he has all along. Watches the way his freckles dance in the morning light, the way his shoulders lies exposed enough to touch, if he wanted to; the way he could now, if he wanted to.

"You know," he says, because Even knows everything, now, but he doesn't think he can say it enough. Because he _wants_ so earnestly for Even to know. "I'm glad it's you."

Even exhales a breath. Exhales it and watches Isak, gaze unwavering, now.

"And I'm really glad I met you, too."

"Isak," Even says. Like he's surprised, maybe, overwhelmed, maybe, so Isak reaches out to play with the hair behind his ear, something calm settling in his chest as he smiles, trying to make it as reassuring as he can.

"I just need you to know," he whispers. "Mm? Like you needed me to know."

"I do know."

"Okay."

"You know." Now it's Even's turn. With the hand not intertwined with Isak's, he reaches out to touch Isak's face. A thumb across his cheek, fingertips carding through his hair. An outlining of his lips. "I wasn't expecting you."

It's almost what he said when he confessed, but not quite. And now:

"But I'm glad you happened," he goes on. His eyes are so soft when he says it. Like honey, dripping down his skin. "And I'm glad it's you, too. And–"

And Isak didn't expect there to be more, but there is, apparently. There is:

"And," Even says. "I'm glad it's me, too."

Isak almost laughs, but Even: Even takes their intertwined hands and, just like he has before, places them over his own chest, places Isak's palm on his own chest, naked skin to naked skin like they've been it before, right where his heart beats.

"I'm glad it's us."

_I'm glad it's us._

Isak knows he could find the words if he had to, knows because he's done it before, but now: He doesn't think he needs to, now. Instead: Instead, instead, instead he leans in, everything in it that he has to put in it, and takes their hands away so he can kiss the spot on Even's chest again. Kiss it, open-mouthed, with everything he's got.

"Me, too," he says. "I'm glad it's us, too."

As time passes around them, they keep lying together. Keep lying together, Isak dragging a thumb over Even's skin, revelling in the fact of being close. Spending this time exactly as he likes to. And then:

"So," Even says. "Should we join the rest?"

*

Eskild is still in the living room when they get up, but now the rest of them are there, too. Jonas, of course. But also Mahdi and Magnus who stayed over, spending the night together in Even's room when they were too drunk to go home.

"Hey," he tells them all, when they find them, and then: "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," they all say. And when they hug, they do it for a long time.

It's Even who makes them all tea and toast, then, and it's Eskild who turns on the television to the Christmas shows so that, once the breakfast is finished, that's where they all gather around.

Once again Isak is wearing one of Even's Christmas sweaters, as Even is wearing one of them, too, and once they settle on the couch he puts his head on top of Even's shoulder, before Even puts his head on top of his. Even arm is around his waist, too, and his hand is on Even's thigh, and when he catches Eskild's eye about it, Isak just shrugs and reaches up to touch the edge of the hat, that he's still wearing. _It's Christmas._

It's been snowing again, so there's condensation resting in the bottom of the window, and in the corner of the room the as of yet unlit Christmas tree stands, decorated with Even's new star on top; the one that Isak gave him. Later, before the ones of them who have to leave will leave, Eskild will probably make them all gather around as they light it, real lights this time, and exhance their presents. And Isak: Isak will have a good time with it.

Isak will have a good time with it because the rest of them will be right there, too.

After a while, then, Jonas comes back in from where he was taking a phone-call from Eva, and rejoins them on the couch by Isak's side.

"Hey," Isak says. "You good?"

Jonas nods. And Jonas: Jonas is the best friend Isak could probably ask for, so, just for a moment, he leans off Even's side, which Even lets him, and leans into Jonas's space instead, before he hugs him. Because it wasn't really saying this earlier, it was saying merry Christmas, ealier, but this: this is him saying thank you.

"You good?" Jonas asks, when they pull apart, and Isak appreciates that he doesn't need to ask why. That they've known each other long enough that he understands. So all he does is nod.

"Mm," he says. "I'm good."

Later, then, while it's still early, he gets a text from his mum:

 **Mamma**  
My dear son. Today we celebrate the birth of the man that God sent to us to save us, because so deep was his love for us and his faith in us. It is not yet the season of sacrifice but, rather, the season of love and of giving and you, my dear Isak, is the most giving and loving person I know. As your mother I only hope that this year you've felt as loved and given to, too, as you make others feel. I'm looking forward to seeing you later today. I love you.

He smiles.

They're all scattered a bit now, but Even is still by his side, carding a hand through his hair, and when he angles the phone to show him, Even smiles, too. Isak writes her back, then,  _I love you,_ and, _I'm excited to see you, too_ , and then Even leans out in their grasp a little, to look at him.

"Hey," he says. "Do you remember that bet we made?"

And Isak: Isak had almost forgotten. Had almost forgotten, but remembers, now, and smiles because it seems like such a long time ago, and smiles because even back then, Even had been just the loveliest thing. So:

"Yeah," he says. "I remember."

"Well." Even raises his brows, teasing a little, leaned out of Isak's grasp but still touching his skin. "Did I win it?"

Isak keeps smiling. And Isak: Isak doesn't even have to think about it, because it was right what Eskild said. This has been a good year. So:

“Yeah,” he says. “You did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so we reach the end
> 
> it's funny, how much more intense this ended up being than i thought it would. turns out that posting a chapter every day means you get very invested in your story and spend a lot of emotional energy on it for a long period of time. who knew?
> 
> anyway, thank you all for investing your time in this. you've been the most wonderful readers, and i've so enjoyed spending this december with you, and you've made this the nicest experience for me. also the bones of this was wirtten before we started, but i was tinkering with it as we were going along, and all of your feedback and kind words definitely made it better than it was to begin with, so i guess that if you've liked this, you've had a little bit of a say in making it. so thank you for that, too
> 
> happy 24th! i hope you have a good day, however you're going to spend it. love you all! and i'll see you again in, shall we say, 2018?


End file.
